


First I Commit a Crime (And Then You Get to Blame Me For It)

by tisfan



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas (2003)
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Cheating, Everyone Is Poly Because Avengers, Idiots in Love, Low-tech/high-magic, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Other, Pining Idiots, Pirates, Sea Monsters, Sinbad AU, Sirens, everyone is forgiven, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-10 20:56:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 38,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11699766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: When Loki is bored, suddenly, nothing is easy.Framed for stealing the Reality Stone from his best friend (and former lover!) Steve, Bucky finds himself accused of the crime and sentenced to death. When the Council doesn’t believe that Bucky is innocent, Steve swears to be executed in Bucky's place, giving him time to seek out Loki and recover the stone from Loki’s realm of JotunheimAccompanied by a ship full of stalwart adventurers, and Steve's fiance, Tony Stark -- who doesn't trust Bucky as far as he can throw him! -- the ship, Hydra, faces sirens, snowbirds, and living islands to make it to Loki’s realm, recover the stone and save Steve's life. The biggest problem? Bucky can't forget his old lover, but at the same time, finds himself falling in love with Steve's boyfriend.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This AU is a Marvel-esque mashup of the 2003 Dreamworks animated movie, Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas, combined with Captain America: The Winter Soldier and The Avengers. (And free-form Loki, who is my favorite Marvel villain) I adore Sinbad and think it was highly underrated film, with a similar art style to Road to El Dorado. I altered the dialogue to fit characters and a slightly altered storyline, but the situations and some dialogue are deliberately copied from the films in question.

Loki, goddess of mischief and mayhem, gazed down at the Celestial Globe. The pinnacle of magical artifacts and the work of many generations of sorcerers and sorceresses, the last and best of which being Loki’s own mother, Frigga. The Globe tracked the mystical energy of every living creature on the planet. The more powerful the creature, the more there was to track. Loki was bored. And there was a fine urge in her this day to create chaos. Glorious chaos.

“Good morning,” she said, addressing her followers. She had some who had come to her for power, some for protection and some were held in sway by Loki’s staff and the tesseract within. “It’s a brand new day, and another opportunity to create mischief. Look at these mortals. I pluck one tiny thread and their whole world dissolves into chaos. Glorious chaos.” She traced the lines on the planet, seeking. The map was difficult to read; so many people, so much energy. Like looking for a specific needle in a stack of needles; mostly all you got were pricks.

The monsters and aliens alike cheered.

Loki ignored them. She pulled up the map, studied the currents. She’d eventually found one of the heroes, those troublemakers, who stood boldly in the path of her goal, had forced her back, time and time again. Aided by her meddlesome brother, they had interfered with her enjoyment and her conquests. Well, no more. She would destroy them, surely, this time. She just needed to figure out… how?

She yanked the Globe up, expanding it until she could see that pesky little mortal, Steven Rogers, better known as Captain America. What… now what could he be doing?

“What could be more perfect than this?” She focused. Rogers had one of the Infinity Stones; was taking it from its safeguarded location in England to… she traced the lines… ah, he hoped to consult with Dr. Strange, in New York, about protecting it. Because, of course, they certainly had not the skill or strength to wield such a powerful artifact. More, Rogers did not know that Strange was a member of the Illuminati, and that his goals, and Roger’s goals, were not entirely in alignment. That could be… intriguing.

If Loki had one weakness, it was that she liked to play with her food.

Captain America had the stone on a ship; of course he did. One couldn’t fly in a dirigible with something that powerful; that caused tremors in its wake. Captain America might survive the fall, but then the Infinity Stone would be who knew where, doing who knew what? A boat was the safest way to carry the item.

There were more currents here than even Loki could unravel. She traced one line backward; there was another ship, in pursuit. She expanded her view; a former Asset led the crew. And her brother looked to the man for guidance. Now that _was_ interesting.

“Oh, this is going to be fun.” Loki looked around at her collection of monsters. She twisted the ring on her finger, which allowed her to teleport. “Let’s go, my pet.”

The nameless, faceless creature, with a snakelike body and a dozen tentacles that descended from under its gaping maw, went to her side. She touched it, one hand against its slimy side, and twisted the ring. “Let’s go fishing…”

***

The Winter Soldier strode up the deck of the Hydra, Lucky at his heel. The sea air was pleasant, the sun was shining. It was a lovely, lovely day. And the Infinity Stone, the Reality stone, he’d sought for so long, the only thing that could save his life, was within his grasp. Just ahead, on a ship that wasn’t even watching out for pirates.

“Gentlemen,” the Winter Soldier addressed his crew, “this is what we’ve been training for. One of the world’s most dangerous items is on its way to New York. Such a shame it will never get there. After today, we’re going to retire! But for now, to arms!” There were more things the Reality Stone could do, after it had rid him of the defect that would take his life, and his crew would get their reward. It was only fair.

His crew of loyal rabble, defectors, rebels, and scum, cheered.

“Thor!”

The burly godling saluted. “Aye, Soldier,” he yelled, bringing the ship alongside with a deft turn of sails.

“Clint!”

The archer scrambled into the lines, headed to the crow’s nest. “Ready, Soldier!”

The _Hydra_ broadsided the _Lemurian Star_ , ship blades coming out to tear the hull, pin the ships together. With a savage roar, the crew of the _Hydra_ crossed to the other, smaller ship, weapons at the ready. Clint stayed in the crow’s nest, his deadly aim thinning the ranks of the soldiers who came up to defend the ship.

The Winter Soldier’s favorite close-quarters weapon, a deadly sharp dagger, was already in his hand as he leaped from one ship to the other and moved in. Shield’s soldiers were good, very good. The Winter Soldier had to hand it to them, they had better training than the majority of the _Hydra’s_ enemies; but the Winter Soldier had a hand-selected crew.

The Asgardian warrior, Thor, was particularly powerful, knocking enemies aside with blows from his mighty hammer.

The Winter Soldier dashed into the fight, striking deep cuts and using the pommels of his daggers to slam into enemy heads. He managed a particularly dextrous feat, leaping over oncoming soldiers and using the mast of the _Lemurian Star_ as a kick-off point to knock several more Shield agents down.

“Huh, how about that move?” he asked Thor as the two of them came back to back among the battle. “Lethal and efficient.”

“T’was a trifle overworked,” Thor remarked. He had an agent tucked in a headlock under one brawny arm. “Just a bit.” He punched the agent in the face, knocking him out.

“Overworked it?” The Winter Soldier scoffed. “Why y--”

An agent charged them, sword at the ready. Thor didn’t even blink, he turned and opened his mouth, catching the blade in his teeth, then twisted his jaw, pulling the agent with it and tossed him overboard.

The Winter Soldier followed the track of the agent, listened to the splash, then raised an eyebrow. “Oh… and I was overworking it? I see.”

Thor grinned and spit out the sword like it was a toothpick.

The Winter Soldier gazed around the deck of the Lemurian Star; most of the agents of Shield were down. One remained, fighting half a dozen of the Winter Soldier’s hand-picked crew, and holding his own. The man turned in battle and the Winter Soldier froze.

“Steve.”


	2. First Interlude

_Ten Years Previous_

The witch, Loki, was a slender woman with narrow wrists and long-fingered hands. She wore a cloak and carried a walking stick. She didn’t look like a powerful magi, didn’t look as if she could bend reality, change the world, travel thousands of miles in a single step. Those were the rumors; Bucky Barnes didn’t know if they were true, but he had been traveling for months to reach this place and he wasn’t about to stop now just because the woman didn’t _look_ impressive.

“So,” Loki said, splaying those long hands over the table between them, spider-like, “let me see if I have your requirements correctly; it would be a shame to begin the bargain ill-informed on either side. You wish to forget your true love, who left you for another. An ease to your broken heart.”

It wasn’t like that, truly. Steve loved him. Bucky knew it was true, but there were political considerations and… and Bucky couldn’t stand in the way of that. But he also couldn’t stand around and watch as Steve courted the diplomat, married that person, went about his life bound to someone else.

Bucky wasn’t a good man, but he wanted to be. He didn’t want to make Steve any more miserable than necessary. He needed to step aside.

But he also didn’t need to suffer for it; not if Loki could perform miracles.

“Can you do it?”

“I can do many things,” Loki said. The woman had stunning green eyes, so very green, and Bucky felt strange, like the world was rocking ever so gently under his feet. “The question now, I believe, is what can you do for me?”

“I have money --”

Loki laughed, throwing her head back. Black hair spilled around her face. “Money, he says. Money… oh, you are amusing. What makes you think I need money? I can shed clippings of my nails and they contain more magic than you will ever see again in your lifetime. I have no need of money, young friend.”

Bucky had been saving for months, taking odd jobs, scrounging in old ruins for treasure, and it was worth nothing? “What is it you want?”

“Now that’s an interesting question,” Loki said. He stood, paced around the room. He moved with liquid grace, like smoke and water. “I want only a few things that one such as yourself might provide. Service. Three years in my service, bound to me, and I’ll do as you wish. I’ll hold your heart safe for you, that it need not be broken. And under my command, you will find yourself growing in power; the tasks I require of you will need greater strength, greater stamina, more force of will than you have now.”

“I’ll be your slave for three years,” Bucky repeated.

“Don’t worry,” Loki said. “You won’t be in pain. You won’t miss anything that you love now. It will be fun, and exciting, and you’ll learn so very, very much. There’s one problem.”

“Which is?”

“I can hold the spell, to keep your heart safe and your mind tranquil,” Loki promised. “But that’s powerful magic. If you see your love again, it may break. So, you’ll need to stay away. In time, you may not even remember why… but pain hidden is not pain relieved. If you see your love again, you will feel it all, as if no time at all had passed.”

Bucky nodded. That shouldn’t be a problem. Without Steve, there was no reason whatsoever to return to New York.

“I agree to this bargain,” Bucky said.

“Stand then, and give me your kiss,” Loki said.

“A kiss?”

“Don’t you know, young friend, that a kiss is the start to all great magics?” Loki smiled, a razor-blade against her pretty face. It was sharp and greedy and eager and nothing like comfort. Or love. “When your lips touch mine, everything that is hurting you now will end. You will no longer be Bucky Barnes, heartbroken and longing and sad.”

Bucky took a deep breath. He hadn’t come this far to give up now.

Loki was taller; she bent her head to receive Bucky’s kiss. Loki’s hand went up to grasp Bucky’s face, pressed painful fingers to his forehead above his eye, to his cheekbone, and to his jaw. Bucky opened his mouth to scream; the pain was electric, blinding.

Loki’s lips were soft and his mouth gentle in contrast to her touch and Bucky sought refuge there.

Finally, it was over. The pain stopped as suddenly as it had started. The soldier straightened, rolled his shoulders once.

“Good morning, soldier,” Loki said, easily. “Are you well?”

“Ready to comply,” the man said.

“Excellent, my friend,” Loki said. “I think… I think your old name will not do. I shall name you for the snows of my realm, as cold and clear as your mind is now. How does the Winter Soldier sound to you, my friend? Should you care to be called such?”

“Of course,” the Winter Soldier said. “What is my mission?”

Loki steepled her fingers together and grinned overtop them. “I know just where to start.”  


	3. Chapter 3

_If you see your love again, you will feel it all, as if no time at all had passed._ It was agony, the flurry of memory, the splintering of the Winter Soldier’s heart. Everything, everything cracked and broke and bled. The Winter Soldier showed none of it. Nothing made it through his mask. He had learned, years in Loki’s service, that pain was of no importance.

Thor came up behind him. “Oh. This just got interesting. How long has it been, since last you saw him?”

The Winter Soldier inhaled, held it. He could not afford to let base sentiment undermine him. This was too important and Steve would just have to understand. And if he couldn’t understand, he would have to be discarded. “A lifetime ago.”

Steve Rogers was the ultimate soldier; enhanced with a magic potion that had changed him from a sickly, scrawny beggar into a brawny force for justice and liberty. The Winter Soldier stood there for a long moment, watching Rogers plow through his crew with ease, kicking ass, taking names. Steve not only fought well, but he was grace and prowess made mortal. Glorious and gorgeous, blond hair shining in the sunlight, pale skin glowing, muscles flexing.

The Winter Soldier had forgotten that he’d known love. He’d forgotten, he’d been out of pain for most of ten years and now it all rushed back, the instant he looked at Steve.

“You still fight like you got somethin’ to prove,” the Winter Soldier called out.

Steve whirled, staring, his handsome face stricken.

“ _Bucky_?”

One of the remaining _Hydra_ crew members jumped Steve, knocking him to the deck. Others, the Winter Soldier’s better fighters, rushed to mob him, holding Steve down. Clint descended to the deck level and aimed an arrow fight for Steve’s heart.

“Who the hell is Bucky?” The Winter Soldier knew the name, of course he did, like he knew his scattered memories, but they weren’t his anymore. They belonged to the person he used to be, not the man he was now. He shook his head, swallowed down nausea. The man he would become once again. Loki’s spell was broken, it was _broken_ , damn it.

“Bucky, what are you doing here?”

The Winter Soldier drew his dagger, turned, and broke open the lock to the _Lemurian Star’s_ cargo hold. “I’m working,” he declared. “What are you doing here?”

“What happened to you? Why do you have a metal arm? Where have you been? I thought you were dead!” Steve struggled, got to his feel, hauling _Hydra’s_ crew with him as if they were no more than leaves.

“Hey, I’d love to stop, chat, and catch up. But I’ve got things to do, places to go, stuff to steal. You know, me things.” He could feel the pull of the Stone, just beyond the door. He pushed the ruined lock aside and entered the cargo hold. The stone was secured inside a crystal case like an egg, beautiful and glowing, painting the room in its light. “Oh, that’s just lovely.”

“Bucky, we need to talk,” Steve said. He came forward, put a hand on the Winter Soldier’s shoulder.

“Heard about these, read about them,” the Winter Soldier said, shoving Steve aside. “Never actually seen one. The Reality Stone.”

“It’s my job to bring it safely to New York,” Steve said. He came up next to the Winter Soldier, standing too close. Much too close. The Winter Soldier took a step away.

“Ah, well, you see, now I just… I feel bad. Because you’re going to get fired,” the Winter Soldier said. He circled the stand that cradled the crystal egg and its priceless treasure.

“You can’t be serious!’ Steve snarled. “You’ve been gone for ten years, I thought you were dead, and now you show up to rob me?”

“I wish it wasn’t you,” the Winter Soldier said. God, he wished it. Even now, maintaining his callous, careless air was difficult; it was stealing the breath from his lungs, the pulse from his blood. Just looking at Steve made his chest hurt. He stared at the Stone. It was his only hope and he’d come too far to quit now. He rubbed at his shoulder where the artifact that was his arm rested against his flesh. The reality stone could fix it, could keep the magic inside from killing him. Loki hadn’t warned him what would happen. He’d lied. Had let Bucky take up the artifact and then tried to gain more years of service out of the Winter Soldier. “I do. Really. But--”

“But it _is_ me, Bucky!”

“Steve,” the Winter Soldier said, “we were best friends, brothers. More than that. I know. Believe me, I know.” He wanted it back, some days, but it could never be, and there was no sense in thinking of it now. “It was fun. Lots of fun. But that’s over now. We were --”

“We were lovers,” Steve said, flatly. “I loved you. You loved me, I know you did. You’re not going to steal this, not from me. What would you even do with it anyway? It’s a dangerous artifact; no mortal can control it. It belongs in the hands of someone who can protect it, like Strange.”

“Exactly,” the Winter Soldier said. Which was why he’d gone out of his way to recruit an immortal to help him. But he couldn’t tell Steve that. “And imagine what Strange and the Sorcerers would pay to get it back.” Let Steve think he was greedy, selfish, a mere pirate. It was better than the truth. The Winter Soldier wasn’t the sort of man you saved; he was the sort that you _stopped_.

“Let me say this again, Bucky. A long time ago, we were lovers, and I loved you. If that ever meant anything to you, prove it now.”  

“You’re right,” the Winter Soldier said. He watched Steve slump slightly in relief, let his guard down. “It was a long time ago.” He reached for the egg.

Steve snatched his wrist, pulled him away. Grabbed his Shield, the precious metal sucking all the vibrations out of the air.

Time to fight. The Winter Soldier drew a dagger. Cocked his fist back; drove the metal arm as hard as he could at Captain America’s Shield.

The sound of the impact was deafening.

“Come on, Steve. You don’t have to get all patriotic about it,” the Winter Soldier said. Keep him talking, distract him.

They exchanged blows, testing each other’s strength, determination. It had been almost a decade since the last time they’d fought, even in practice, and they’d each learned, grown, changed, since then.

“If you want the stone, you’ll have to go through me,” Steve said as he pinned the Winter Soldier’s metal arm to the wall with his Shield.

Suddenly the wall gave way; an enormous, slimy tentacle ripped through the side of the ship, knocking the Winter Soldier and Captain America aside. Dripping seawater, the underside of the tentacle was covered with round, red suckers, gaping for a grip. The Winter Soldier scrambled to one side, eyes wide, gasping for air. The creature was a thing from nightmares.

“What the _fuck_?”


	4. Chapter 4

The tentacle withdrew, flailing, nearly knocking the Winter Soldier off his feet. From the deck, screams and cries were mingled with rigging toppling over and the roars of angry, hungry monster. Forgetting their own differences, the Winter Soldier and Captain America scrambled out to the deck.

The monster had hold of the ship with enormous, ropy appendages and from the sea rose its monstrous head, a huge spiny mantle surrounding its face. Glowing orange eyes gazed at them with eager hunger. More tentacles protruded from the thing’s snout, grasping at agents and sailors alive, pulling them toward the gaping maw.

Lucky charged out onto the deck; the one-eyed dog grabbed hold of one tippy end of tentacle and bit down. The Winter Soldier might not have thought such a great huge beast could feel a wound that small, but maybe it was sensitive. It shook the tentacle, dropping Lucky back to the _Hydra_.

“Go Lucky,” the Winter Soldier said, chuckling. Nothing about the situation was funny; but if he did not laugh and find bravado to face down this menace, he was going to scream or run mad. Clint caught Lucky just before the dog tumbled off the far side of the _Hydra_.

“Well, I can see you’re busy,” the Winter Soldier said, checking over his ship. No tentacles ensnared the _Hydra_ ; they were held on only by the deck hooks and grappling lines. “So, uh, I’ll see you again, maybe.”

Forget the Stone, they’d have another chance, perhaps, later, but against this creature? No. The Winter Soldier had to think of his men and their lives, first.  

“Wait, you’re just going to run away?” Steve demanded, chasing after the Winter Soldier and grabbing at his sleeve.

“Uh, yeah, that was the plan,” the Winter Soldier said. “I’m greedy, not suicidal.”

He turned to board the _Hydra_ but it was too late. The monster ripped the _Lemurian Star_ free, breaching the _Star’s_ hull, and separating it from the _Hydra_ with a tearing, crushing sound. The monster’s thick, serrated tail swished in between the two ships, driving them further apart.  

“Soldier!” Thor cried before the ships were too far apart for the Winter Soldier to hear him any longer.

“Shit, my ride!” He balanced on the rail, then turned. Steve was organizing his crew, trying to fight the monster, using the Shield to stun it, trying to cut the tentacles, heave them off the deck. It was a hopeless battle. Surely, surely Steve had to see he couldn’t win.

It was Steve. Of course he didn’t see that.

The creature opened its maw; a long tongue, covered with ooze and barbs, grabbed one of the soldiers -- who was bleeding profusely from a head wound -- and snapped it up. Blood; the creature was attracted to blood, like a shark.

The Winter Soldier drew his dagger and sliced the back of his arm, bleeding onto one of the ship’s powder kegs. He grabbed a covered lamp from the rail and lit the fuse. “Heads up!” With a mighty heave, he hoisted the keg and threw it into the air. The creature tracked the motion, scented the air. The tongue snaked out again, grabbing the powder keg and drawing it into its mouth.

He grabbed Steve’s arm, steadied him as the creature flailed. “Stand by for sushi,” he quipped. The beast burped, the yellow eyes looked confused, and then the keg exploded. The creature vomited foul slime all over the deck, roaring in agony. Its last meal, the wounded soldier, came up with the tide of regurgitated fish, bits of ship, ooze and sea water. He screamed, scrubbed at his face in terror and revulsion, screamed again, and ran belowbecks.

“Give that man a raise,” the Winter Soldier advised. “He’s earned it.”

“Come on, come on,” Steve urged.

The Winter Soldier shook him off. “Hey, hey, Cthulu-reject, over here!” He waved his bleeding arm. The beast roared, stared at the tiny creature that had caused it so much pain, eyes narrowing. Wait for it, wait for it.

It lashed out with the tongue again. The Winter Soldier neatly evaded the beast, leaping over the tongue. He drew his dagger and came down like the wrath of god, stabbing the beast through the tongue and nailing it to the deck. “Now! Move!”

The Winter Soldier scanned the decks for a weapon, any weapon. The ship was wrecked; masts torn -- wait, wait, masts! The _Lemurian Star_ was a two-master, and both sails were shredded, but the rigging was still in place, hanging loose in ropes.

“Come on, climb,” he yelled. He grabbed a length of rope and tossed it around the main mast. “Grab hold!” He extended his hand to Steve, who took it. The contact sizzled up his nerves like lightening. He hadn’t missed Steve, in his tenure as the Winter Soldier, never noticed the missing man at his side. But he had been cold and uncaring and how everything that he had been was bleeding into the man he was now. And he could never, ever tell Steve. Not now. Not after everything that he’d done.

Using the rope for traction, they scurried up the main mast like loggers, the beast’s tentacles trying to snatch them down, but they were too quick, the beast too cumbersome.

They made it to the mainsail, the sheet hanging in tatters. The Winter Soldier drew his dagger.

“What’s the plan?” Steve yelled, barely audible over the creature’s ravening.

“How about ‘try not to get killed?’” The Winter Soldier cut the line, angling the topsail yard toward the monster. “Here, you’ll need this.” He tossed Steve his dagger and drew another; it was a good thing he kept a half-dozen knives secured on his person at all times. He was running through them like water today.

He grabbed hold of another line, prepared to swing.

“Where are you going?”

“Fishing!” He made it to the mizzenmast and cut the mizzensail yard in the same manner. They were both angled down, now, jagged edges pointed directly at the beasts’ head. Across the deck, their eyes met; Captain America and the Winter Soldier. They’d fought like this before; practically telepathic. It ripped the Winter Soldier’s heart open, how easy it was to fall back into that pattern. _As if no time at all had passed._ But it had. Ten years of it. Ten years in which the Winter Soldier had done unspeakable things.

“Now!” they yelled together, slicing the last lines. The yards slid free, impaling the monster to the deck with sickening twin thuds. The creature heaved a mighty sigh and then slithered off the deck, body weighted down in death.

“You okay?” Steve asked, running to the Winter Soldier’s side.

“Fine, you?”

“Thanks for sticking around,” Steve said, watching with satisfaction as the monster slid off his decks.

“With you til the end of the line, pal,” the Winter Soldier said. Steve didn’t see it; the last tentacle, moving off the side. He was right in the path. The Winter Soldier didn’t bother to think; he simply acted. He couldn’t let Steve die, not like that. He shoved.

The tentacle hit the Winter Soldier, full force, and dragged him overboard.

“BUCKY!” Steve raced after him, and the Winter Soldier had just enough time to see Steve’s men holding him back, preventing him from leaping after, before he was underwater, being dragged down into the depths.


	5. Chapter 5

The beast carried him into the depths, dead weight, dragging him down, down.

The Winter Soldier struggled against the creature’s hold, held his breath until his lungs were burning with it. The sea closed over him.

From the depths came a face, a woman’s beautiful face, all long dark hair and emerald eyes. The Winter Soldier shook his head, he was hallucinating, maybe? The woman -- dear Goddess, could it truly be Loki again? -- took a deep breath -- she was _enormous_ , bigger even than the monster that was dragging him down -- and pursed her lips, blowing him a kiss. She formed a great bubble that surrounded him, even as the creature released him, and water splashed as he found himself standing on nothing, in the middle of the ocean’s depths.

Yep, hallucinating before death.

 _Great_.

The Winter Soldier gasped for air, water dripping all over. It was cold, deathly cold inside the air bubble and his clothing clung to him, soaked and uncomfortable.

“And the day began with such promise,” Loki said. He couldn’t see her, she’d vanished, shape changing and shifting as she did. Her voice was pleasant, almost sweet, dripping honey and poison in equal measure. The Winter Soldier knew her, knew her too well. Hated her and had loved her and killed for her and was dying because of her. “And now look. My sea monster is dead and I still don’t have the Infinity Stone. All because of you, my Winter Soldier.”

She formed, like a cloud of emerald smoke, and walked toward him, more human-sized now, although still tall. Thin as a rail, but graceful. She wore a green and gold gown that was dry, although she’d walked out of the ocean to greet him. In one delicate hand was a long, golden staff, which held a blue crystal that glowed malevolently.

“My name is Bucky,” the Winter Soldier protested, then bit his lip. He hadn’t meant to say that. “I’m not your Soldier anymore.” The stated contract was up. The Winter Soldier was free, even if he was dying, slowly, by inches, because of Loki’s treachery.

“You are still dying, my soldier,” Loki said. “And now, you’ve lost your one chance to change it. Without the Stone, what will you do?”

“The _Lemurian Star_ won’t get far. I know where she’s going,” the Winter Soldier said, laughing nervously. He did not want to be here, held alive by Loki’s magic. Every adventure in his life that the goddess had been involved in started with trouble, ended in disaster, and contained a great deal of pain and humiliation.

“Uh-huh,” Loki said. She looked down at her perfectly painted nails. “I can feel your pain already, Soldier. Are you ready to face down your true love again, or would you rather be wiped clean, start again? No. Well… about my sea monster.” She poked him in the chest with one long finger. It hurt, just the touch of her was like frost.

Be nice to the crazy Asgardian goddess. “Right,” the Winter Soldier said. “About that. I don’t suppose a heartfelt apology would do?”

Loki threw back her head and laughed, showing off a smooth, white throat. “From you? James Barnes, you don’t have a heart, and we both know it. That’s what I like about you.” She shifted again, to his size, her impressive bosom heaving. The Winter Soldier was having a hard time not looking at that sinuous body, that beautiful face and luscious skin, those poisoned lips. “So, I’m going to let you live. But there’s one thing you have to do, to make it up to me. Get me the Infinity Stone and bring it to me.”

“Right,” the Winter Soldier said. If she wanted the stone, what exactly did she need him for? Loki was a Goddess, an Asgardian. And not one who was at all practiced in restraint. There must be some reason she couldn’t just take it, and that left him an opportunity. “Now, see, that’s a problem because I have my own plans for it. Retirement, getting rich, you know, me stuff.” He turned, tried to walk away from Loki -- not even really sure where the fuck he thought he was going -- and she was right there, again, in front of him.

“You mortals are so small and petty,” Loki said. She gestured with her staff. “Steal the stone for your own purposes, lift the curse on your arm, and you can make some other small changes, enough money to lounge on a beach somewhere. If the Stone doesn’t tear you to shreds as soon as you touch it. Steal it for me, and I can wield it. Give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of.” She moved in, slow, those red lips forming words and she got close enough to kiss before the Winter Soldier took a hasty step back. Loki was deadly dangerous, he’d learned that the hard way.

“Hmm. You let me live,” the Winter Soldier said, clearing out the contract, “you make me rich. You grant my wishes. So far, I’m not seeing a downside. If you keep your word.”

“And I keep the stone, when you’re done with it, my soldier. I won’t even ask to extend our bargain a third time,” Loki said. “You know I always keep my word, once it’s been given.”

“All right, we have a bargain.”

“So delightful to do business with you,” Loki said. “So… when you’ve stolen the Stone, follow that star beyond the horizon. You’ll find yourself in back in Jotunheim.”

“Right, I’ll see you there,” the Winter Soldier said.

“It’s a date, then,” Loki said. She laughed, and then she kissed him, deep and wet and with entirely too much tongue. She drew back and the Winter Soldier panted for air, hard and aching and wanting and at the same time, very much _not_ wanting. Loki hadn’t changed, she was still terrifying. “So, where were we? Oh, right. You were holding your breath.”

She dissolved and the air bubble went with her, returned to foam and wave and tide. The sea rushed in. He had only enough time to grab a lungful of air before he was drowning again. Desperate, he kicked and struggled toward the surface, the metal arm weighing him down.

Oh, fuck, oh god, he was going to die.  

He broke the surface and a massive hand reached down to grab him. Thor jerked him back aboard the _Hydra_.

“So, you didn’t die after all,” Natasha said, his third mate. She shook back her red hair and stepped on the Winter Soldier’s back. He coughed out a lungful of water. “Too bad, I could have used a promotion.”

“Pay up,” Sam said, holding out a hand to Natasha. “He lived.”

Natasha grumbled, took her foot off the Winter Soldier’s back and dug around in her belt pouch for a few coins. Sam counted them carefully.

“What happened down there, my friend?” Thor boomed.

Oh god, did he really have to? “You wouldn’t believe me.”

“There are few things so unbelievable as to try my faith,” Thor said.

“Okay, here goes; so, your sister, you know, the one I used to work for and finally got free of? Seems she’s got a major crush on me, and wants me to do one last job for her. And she invited me back to her realm for a date.”

Thor stared at him for a moment, then burst into laughter. “Well, that should prove interesting, my friend,” Thor said. “It is hard to break free of my sibling, when she’s of a mind to play with her food.”

“That’s a disgusting thought and I’m appalled that you had it,” the Winter Soldier said. “Much less that you said it to me.”

“So that’s it then,” Clint said, scurrying down the lines to hang upside down near the Winter Soldier’s head. “No stone?”

“Little patience, Hawkeye,” the Winter Soldier said. He pointed off the starboard side, where the _Lemurian Star_ was sailing away. “Not like we don’t know where it’s going. We’ll get it.”


	6. Chapter 6

 The _Lemurian Star_ limped more than sailed back into the harbor of New York. The great city rose like an altar to the gods, buildings rich with marble and gold, the brilliant lights of the city a warm and welcoming as a fire.

Steve Rogers strode out on deck. It was good, very good, to be home. He’d been sent, by Fury, by the Council, to retrieve the stone, to bring it back so that Dr. Strange could study it, protect it. The stone, one of six, was precious, powerful. Dangerous. Recovering the Reality Stone meant that two stones were now accounted for and in safe hands. _Our own hands are still the safest._

Strange already had the green stone, the Time Stone, as part of his artifact, the Eye of Agamotto. He even gave them the courtesy of coming himself, to collect it.

“You’ve done well, Cap,” Fury said. He paced along the balcony of the Triskelion, overlooking the harbor and from the far end of the balcony, the Sanctum Sanctorum. As Dr. Strange and his escort brought the stone within, the Sanctum’s windows flickered with magical light, accepting the artifact under its protection. There were always forces that could bring it down, but Steve felt pretty confident in Strange’s safeguards, particularly bolstered as they were by Shield’s fleet of war airships.

“I try, sir,” Steve said. He stood at parade rest, hands locked at the small of his back. He wasn’t sure if that was because he was relaxed and relieved to be home, or if he was still shaken by the chance encounter with Bucky. He certainly didn’t want anyone to ask him about it.

“Your boyfriend’s agreed to throw us a little party, to celebrate,” Fury said.

That brought a faint smile to Steve’s face. “Tony’s always been all about style,” he said.

“So, dress up nice, and I’ll see you for drinks in an hour.”

“Of course, Director,” Steve said. He snapped to attention. He owed Director Fury his life, his allegiance. Papers were already drawn up; when Fury retired (or, if the worst happened, was killed) Steve would take on the role of head of Shield’s army, Captain would become Commander. Under the guidance of a new director, Tony Stark. To bind the civilian and the military sides closer together, to make sure that they worked well and kept the world safe, Steve and Tony had agreed to wed.

Steve smiled. It was a good arrangement.

Even if it did mean he had to dress up once in a while and parade around in front of people like a trained monkey. Not his favorite activity.

On the plus side, he wasn’t at the party long before there was a bit of excitement.

On the down side, that excitement was the crew of the _Hydra_ , Bucky Barnes swaggering up in front of them, crashing the party.

A dozen Shield agents rushed to block them, swords and knives bristling.

“See, this is what happens why I try to come through the front door,” Bucky said.

Steve froze. Even having seen him just days ago, Steve was rocked to his core. Something had changed about his best friend, his former lover. He was harder. Callous. Bucky had always talked big, been a bit of a show off, but he’d never been cruel. It wasn’t just the arm, some part of Bucky was _missing_. Something had changed him, and not for the better. But… he was still Bucky. Down deep. Steve knew it.

“What’s that doing here?” Fury stopped dead in his tracks. “He’s a ghost story, a myth. Most of the world doesn’t even believe he exists. The ones that do call him…”

“The Winter Soldier,” Steve said. He nodded. “I’ve heard that name before. I call him Bucky.”

“Well, that makes me feel better,” Fury snorted. “He’s an assassin and a thief.”

“And if he’s here, we can keep an eye on him.”

Fury glared at Steve with his one good eye. “That joke --”

“Never gets old, admit it, sir,” Steve said. The agents were getting twitchy; better go put a stop to that before someone got hurt; probably the agents.

Bucky and the head of security were snarling at each other, Bucky completely uncowed by the number of sharp, pointy objects in his face.

“I don’t see you for ten years,” Steve said, “and now twice in a week? You’re smothering me, jerk.”

“Punk,” Bucky retorted. “I knew you’d want to thank me properly for saving your life.” He grinned, and while it wasn’t the devil-may-care smirk that Steve remembered, it was _something_. God, he’d missed Bucky. Missed him desperately.

Like the planet and the moon, like the tides and the shore, Steve couldn’t resist. Bucky had retreated every time, when Steve tried to touch him, before. It couldn’t be what it once was, but that didn’t mean it had to be nothing, did it? Bucky pulled Steve into an embrace, and it felt good, god. He almost wept with gratitude; Bucky’s hands on Steve’s back, the smell of his hair in Steve’s nose. “Oh, god, pal,” Steve said, soft, for Bucky alone.

For public consumption -- because there were gossips in every crowd -- he put an arm around Bucky’s shoulder. “Oh, you probably just heard there was going to be a huge party.”

“Hear that?” Bucky raised his voice, spoke to the sailors and agents behind him. “Drinks are on Steve.”

“Not literally, please, this suit has to be dry cleaned,” Steve said.

“I like the other suit better,” Bucky said, fingering the material. “Blue always suited you more.”

“Come on, Bucky,” Steve said, taking his arm. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

Behind them, the security team was insisting that _Hydra’s_ crew disarm before going among the nobles and wealthy and powerful men and women of New York. The small, red haired woman had more weapons on her, concealed in her clothing, than should have even been remotely possible. Steve wondered where Bucky had found her.

“He’s heard all about you,” Steve said, searching. “I can’t hardly tell a story about my life that doesn’t have you in it. Even when I had nothing, pal… Ah, there he is. Bucky, I’d like to introduce you to Tony Stark, my fiancé.”

“So… this is the infamous Bucky Barnes,” Tony said. Steve grinned broadly; his betrothed was a gorgeous man, compact and graceful, with impeccable taste, a genius-level IQ, and a smart mouth like none Steve had ever heard before. Perfect little ball of snark and sass. Steve loved him. “I heard all about your little adventures. First you try to steal the stone, and then you save everyone’s life. So, I’m wondering, which are you? The thief, or the hero?”

Steve turned to Tony. “Bucky wanted to give me the opportunity to thank him properly. I’m not entirely sure what that means, since Bucky’s never been proper before in his whole life --”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “I think he changed his mind.”

Bucky was gone, disappeared like the ghost he was rumored to be.

***

The Winter Soldier gathered up the crew as fast as he could. He was a _fool_ , an idiot. Loki had warned him, had told him. God, damn, it felt like his heart was being ripped right out and laid out on the floor. The rest of the spell that kept his heart in one piece had broken as soon as he saw Tony at Steve’s side. If he could have died gracefully in that moment, he would have done so, gladly.

He would deal with the wrath of a Goddess. What worse could Loki possibly do to him? Kill him? He’d almost welcome that. Not kill him. Continue to use the Winter Soldier as her own personal guard dog and slave. At least he would be wrapped again in the cotton batting of forgetfulness. Or, even worse, Loki would claim more years of service and would not muffle the pain, would let him live with it.

The Winter Soldier didn’t know what to do. He did not know what path to take to ease his pain.

The Winter Soldier had lost some of his armor, over the years. Surely, surely it hadn’t ached this much, before. But seeing them together like that, Steve’s hand on Tony’s arm, saw the way Tony looked at Steve and the way Steve looked back.

The Winter Soldier wanted to claw his eyes out, wanted to block up his ears so he couldn’t hear their voices. It was _torture_. He had to walk away before he did something, or said something, that gave it all away. If nothing else, he clung to the simple truth that Steve did not know.

Steve couldn’t know.

 _Ever_.

“Come, Natasha,” Thor bellowed as they strode by the weapon’s table, recovering their gear. “We are leaving.”

Natasha looked at her pile of daggers, blades, garrotes, grenades, wire, pills, poisons. “But I just…” She grumbled and gathered up her things.

“We’ll sail first thing tomorrow,” the Winter Soldier said.

“No Stone? No riches? Boss, c’mon,” Clint protested.

“We’ll find something else,” the Winter Soldier promised. A simple treasure. Money would suffice; the crew were, for the most part, loyal to him, and to coin. They didn’t share the Winter Soldier’s motivations. They, at least, weren’t cursed. The Winter Soldier flexed his metal arm. Damn Loki to the depths of Hel for all that the Goddess had done to him.


	7. Chapter 7

“Look at it this way,” Tony said, drawing Steve out onto the balcony, “now that your friend is gone, everyone can relax and enjoy the evening. Fury gets nervous when there are rumored assassins about.”

“I don’t believe Bucky did that,” Steve said.

“It was the Winter Soldier,” Tony pointed out. “And I’m pretty sure that was who crashed the party.”

According to the After Action Report, a man who bore a suspicious resemblance to Bucky, had tried to assassinate Fury. Captain Rogers had been there, had come to the rescue at the last moment. He’d given chase, but the man had escaped. No trace had been found and because there was no proof that the man with the metal arm had been Bucky, Steve had done his best to ignore rumor, to squash what brief hope and guilt there had been in that fleet sighting.

“We have no proof that the Winter Soldier and Bucky are the same man,” Steve protested.

“I don’t think Fury will wait around for proof,” Tony cautioned. “For your friend’s sake, he should leave. Quickly.”

Fury had eventually recovered from being shot with an arrow, but he’d been suspicious (even more than he was before, and that was saying quite a lot) and paranoid ever since. Tony had, in sympathy and respect, taken on as much of the running of Shield as Fury would let slip through his fingers.

“Fury’s getting older,” Steve said. “He’s thinking of retiring, I know it.”

“And that will be more work for you, won’t it, sweetheart?” Tony already knew the burdens Steve carried, just being Captain, and head of the Strike team. Commander… that was a heavy responsibility, expanding Steve’s power, but also his work. All of the military forces of Shield would be under his control. It had been a tempting power, for some, but Tony knew his fiancé well; Steve would wield it well. He was a good man.

“It will be _our_ responsibility,” Steve said. He put his hand lightly on Tony’s shoulder and Tony leaned into it.

Tony leaned against the balcony rail, looking out at the ocean. “It comes to us early. I used to dream of great adventures, but I didn’t realize it would come with so much paperwork.”

Steve chuckled. “Better you than me,” he said.

“Yes,” Tony agreed. “I’ve seen your After Action reports. Your penmanship is superb, your use of adverbs is… excessive.”

“Can I help it if there aren’t better ways to describe things?” Steve asked.

Tony laughed, shoved at Steve playfully, and looked back out to sea. “It’s gorgeous,” he said.

“Yes, yes you are,” Steve said. He leaned next to Tony and nudged him. Tony nudged back. It got into a little pushy-pushy, ending when Steve had Tony pinned up against a column, the air heating between them.

Steve leaned down, would have stolen a kiss, but Tony was already offering. He stretched up, put his arms around Steve’s neck and drew him in. God, the man tasted divine, like apple and clove and sea salt. Tony yielded to the onslaught of Steve’s tongue, surrendered. Steve kissed like he did everything else in his life, passionately and with every bit of his concentration. There was no wondering where Steve’s mind was when he was talking with Tony, when he was touching Tony.

Not like Tony’s. Inwardly, Tony sighed. He didn’t deserve this; he wasn’t a good man and Steve deserved better.

But Tony was also a selfish, greedy man and as long as Steve was his, he was going to do everything in his power to keep him.

Tony deepened the kiss, trying to give Steve everything he deserved and more. He wanted to feel Steve, the warmth of him, his vitality, up and down the length of him, around him, through him, becoming one person across two bodies.

Tony let his hand drift down until he found the curve of Steve’s ass, plush and round and muscular. He squeezed lightly and smiled against Steve’s mouth as Steve gasped. Steve pushed him harder against the column, the stone cold on his back, Steve warm and eager along his front. Truly, a rock and a hard place. But it wasn’t so bad.

Tony wanted it all, but it wasn’t the time. Or the place. They were expected among the guests. He wriggled a bit, to let cool air pass between them, but the feel of Steve’s erection, evident even through the layers of clothing, was making him weak. Oh, god, he wanted...

Steve gave one last, tender nuzzle at Tony’s mouth and then stepped back. Oh, that was just mean. Tony was gasping for breath and shivering and all he had was this damn stone wall to hold him up.

“I know, our marriage was the political thing,” Steve said. “To unite the military and the civilians under a single banner. A good plan, and it is working. But politics is not a reason to get married.”

Tony blinked. He pressed his hand against his heart. After this long, was Steve _breaking up_ with him? That… that was no good at all. He pushed himself up and away from the wall. “Steve, what are you talking about? There are literally _dozens_ of reasons for us to get married.”

“I don’t want you to do this because it’s your duty, or because of your responsibility to the people,” Steve continued. He looked so damned earnest, it was heartbreaking. “I’m asking you, just for myself now, because I love you, and I want you at my side. Tony, will you marry me?”

Tony almost fell over in relief. There was nothing, literally _nothing_ \-- even an escape from paperwork -- that he wanted more. Steve was his whole world. They’d been betrothed for nearly nine years now; a year of being acquainted when the idea was being battered around by Fury and Coulson and the rest of the council, especially after the war… but ever since then, there’d been no one for him but Steve. He reached for Steve’s hands, wanting to tell him everything that was in his heart, and--

“Stark, I’m gonna have to ask you to release the Captain and come and do your damn job,” Fury growled. Tony sighed. Fury and his revolting timing. Tony was pretty sure if he could track it back, he’d discover that Fury was present at every instance of poorly timed assholery from present day all the way back to the Fall of Man.

“Official consulting hours are between eight and five every other Thursday,” Tony said, but he knew it was no use. Fury had someone that Tony absolutely had to talk to, or money he had to spend. In his darker hours, Tony admitted it was more the unlimited access to the Stark fortune that excited Fury rather than any particular desire for Tony’s company, his wits, or his influence.

“Go on, dear,” Steve said, running one hand down Tony’s back, and as Fury turned and couldn’t see, swatted him lightly on the behind. Tony suppressed a yelp. “We’ll talk more later.”

Yeah, that was going to make Tony damned diplomatic. Really. Being cockblocked by half the richest and most powerful people in New York. Great. _Fantastic_.

***

Loki had many tricks up her immortal sleeve; illusions, evocations, shape-shifting. Her favorite might well have been invisibility.

She snuck around the Triskelion, picking up bits of gossip like a child picking flowers. It was delightful. The people of New York loved Captain America. They were looking forward to the wedding, hoped now that the Infinity Stone was recovered that there might be more reasons to celebrate.

Fury, that old meddler, would retire, turn the reins of power over to Stark and Rogers, the dynamic duo. Who would then set to more serious work. Fury was a plotter, but Rogers was an idealist. With Rogers at the helm, the world might well surrender to peace and… (shudder) order.

Well, Loki couldn’t have that.

She knew what to do.

“This is going to be so… much… fun…”

She was smoke. She was shadow. She slipped into the Sanctum Sanctorum like both, bypassing magical and physical wards with ease.

A single sorcerer stood guard, rune-sword at the ready. Loki swirled around the room, touching her fingers to the lamps. The wicks went stone cold at her touch. The room exploded in eldritch light as the sorcerer summoned forth runes and feeble magics. Loki could have laughed at it, but that wasn’t the game tonight.

She pulled her body into smoke and light, reshaping until Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier, her old friend, stood there. While she was in his shape, she could feel his mind. Seeing the Captain, talking with him, had started the fracture. His mind was crumbling under the strain regained memories, the burden of heartbreak so long repressed, trebled in its suppression, the knowledge, the guilt, of the things he’d done under Loki’s command. Poor thing.

“Who’s there?” The sorcerer demanded.

Did anyone _ever_ answer that question? _Oh, yes, tis I, a humble thief. I’m in your cold box, stealing your sandwiches. Can I make you one, while I’m here?_

Loki, wearing her Barnes skin-suit, strode out into the open.

“Winter Soldier!” Because of course Dr. Strange would teach his students of that feared assassin. The Winter Soldier had been a key force in the recovery of the Tesseract, had delivered the Stone to Loki’s feet, quite some time ago. He was such an Asset. If Loki could have loved, she might have loved the Winter Soldier. Such a good, sweet boy. So cute. So… gullible. So… malleable.

Two steps, one swing of a stolen dagger. The Winter Soldier had been so wrapped up in his anguish, he hadn’t noticed Loki, in disguise, stepping forward to claim it from the weapon’s table. Still didn’t know it was missing. But he would, soon enough.

The sorcerer was down, rune magic seeping away through the stone floors.

Loki dropped the knife and it clattered to the floor. “I just love playing pretend,” she said, letting the Barnes skin drop off her like spiderwebs.

She circled the room, checking for magical traps. It would not do at all, to be caught. Everyone must believe _exactly_ the wrong thing.

“All the stones,” she said, closing her hand around the Reality Stone, feeling its burn in her blood, the tingle of power against her skin. “Will be mine.”

And for a little dash of fun, Loki raised the Stone, called on its power. When once, the reality had been that New York was built on solid ground, now it was over a crack in the tectonic plates. Loki laughed, and pulled. The city shook. The sky darkened.

“Let chaos reign!”

The city shook itself apart.


	8. Chapter 8

 It didn’t take long; the Winter Soldier didn’t even know why he was surprised.

The city collapsed under the strain of moving rock; the harbor wasn’t blocked but the tide was bad, and before he could even get underway, Shield agents were crawling all over the _Hydra_ and the Winter Soldier was arrested.

Handcuffed.

Thrown in a cell.

Yelled at. Threatened. Where is the Infinity Stone?

How the fuck should the Winter Soldier know? He was on his fucking ship, getting ready to launch with the tide and suddenly he was battered. Beaten and bloody and on his knees on the cold stone floor of the Triskelion deepest, darkest dungeon.

He didn’t know how long he lay there; body aching. Bleeding. He touched his tongue to his split lip. The agents hadn’t been gentle, even after he’d surrendered to spare his crew.

“Bucky.”

The Winter Soldier turned his head, barely managed to get to his knees as Steve walked in. The guards closed the doors behind him.

“Oh, Steve, thank the gods,” the Winter Soldier said. “You’ve got to get me out of here.”

“And why should I do that?” Steve demanded. “You betrayed us all. You stole the Stone.”

“Not you,” the Winter Soldier said, his heart breaking yet again. He’d done so many evil things in his life, but the one time, the one time he _needed_ Steve to believe him…

“How could you?”

“Steve,” the Winter Soldier said. He staggered to his feet, swayed, stumbled. Steve didn’t reach out to steady him and the Winter Soldier thought he was going to be sick. “This is how it works. First I commit a crime and then you get to blame me for it.”

“You were seen, don’t lie! I’m sick of you lying to me!” Steve nearly screamed it, and his voice broke in the middle. Like he was heartbroken at the Winter Soldier’s betrayal. And that hurt, even worse. “You left this behind.” He held out his hand, revealing one of the Winter Soldier’s knives.

Well, obviously someone had stolen the Stone, the Winter Soldier reasoned. Someone took it, and no matter what anyone else believed, it wasn’t _him_.

“Loki.”

“What?” Steve blinked.

“It has to be,” the Winter Soldier said. “She’s the one who sent me after it in the first place.” Not entirely true, but Steve didn’t need to know that. Steve didn’t need to know. Ever. “She wants it, she took it, and she’s framing me for it.”

“Loki. God of Mischief?” Steve scoffed. “Why? That doesn’t even make sense. Listen to yourself, not even I would believe a lie like that.”

“Trust me, Steve,” the Winter Soldier pleaded. “The Reality Stone is in Jotunheim. Loki has it. Talk to Fury for me, tell him--”

“This is beyond Fury! It’s beyond Shield, it’s beyond everything, The Reality Stone can destroy the whole world, Bucky. The Council is convening for your trial --”

“Trial? I’m not even present!”

“And you don’t have to be. You were seen by one of Strange’s sorcerers. You don’t need to speak on your own behalf, everyone who has eyes can see what he saw.”

“That’s ridiculous. I left the Stone on your ship and that’s the last I saw of it! You were there. You know the truth,” the Winter Soldier pointed out. “You know me.”

“Do I?” Steve burst out. “I knew a kid. A young man. You won’t even talk to me, won’t tell me what happened? Who are you now? The Winter Soldier?”

“My _name_ is Bucky,” Bucky said. And it was true. _It was true_. The last of Loki’s spell, cast so long ago, shattered. Bucky went to his knees with the pain of it. “I didn’t do it.”

Steve was on the floor in front of him, one hand on Bucky’s shoulder. His blue eyes were wide, serious, still angry. But confident, showing no doubt. “I believe you. I’ll get you into the trial.”

For all the good it did.

Fury had no interest in Bucky’s speculations. “You are a known assassin --”

“What I did then,” Bucky said, “was not my fault. I know that I committed those acts, but I was under the control of the Loki, goddess of mischief. A slave. I did it, but not this. I don’t have the stone. If I had it, do you think we’d be standing here arguing about it?”

“You cannot prove these claims. You were seen. You left evidence behind,” Fury said.

“It matters not what he claims.” A new voice, calm and deceptively quiet. Bucky looked up. Alexander Pierce, the chairman of the Council. “The Council finds you guilty of treason and we sentence you to death. Take him away.”

“Oh, come on,” Bucky protested. “I don’t have it, I told you, I don’t…”

“Stop,” Steve said in his firmest, most commanding tones. Even though he was not directly in charge of the courtroom, the agents froze at his orders. “I demand the right of substitution. Take me in his place.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Fury snapped.

Across the room, Tony’s head snapped up and he gasped. “No, Steve!”

“Bucky says that Loki’s got the Stone and I believe him,” Steve said. “Send him to Jotunheim to recover it.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Bucky scoffed. “I told you I didn’t have it, not that I was some crazy hero out to take on a goddess for your amusement.”

“You claim Loki stole the stone. Steal it back.”

“I will not be responsible for your life, pal,” Bucky pleaded, desperately.

“Til the end of the line, right, Bucky?” Steve’s confidence was crippling. Humbling. Worthless. Bucky wasn’t that man anymore. He wasn’t.

“Not anymore,” Bucky said. _God, Steve, see reason._

“He is a fucking liar, and you cannot depend on him,” Fury bellowed. “If we let him leave, he won’t be back and you will die.”

“Look, either Bucky stole the stone and he’s lying, or he’s telling the truth, and Loki has it. Either way, he’s the only hope we have of getting it back.”

“No, no, Steve, you can’t do this --” Tony burst out. “I can’t lose you like that.”

Bucky wanted to scream. It shouldn’t end this way, he… god damn it, if he had the fucking thing, he’d give it up, just so he didn’t have to look at Tony looking at Steve like that.

Pierce was firm, calm. “You realize that if the Winter Soldier doesn’t come back, we will execute you in his place.”

“I know what I promised.”

“As you will,” Pierce said. “The Winter Soldier has ten days to recover the Stone and bring it back.”

Fury grumbled. “I recognise the council has made a decision, but given that it's a stupid-ass decision, I've elected to ignore it.”

“Fury,” Pierce repeated. “Release the prisoner.”

Bucky rubbed at his wrists as the shackles came off. And was stricken with guilt when the agents took only a few steps and placed them around Steve’s wrists. The agents led him away. Tony scurried out of the Council stands, ran to throw his arms around Steve. “No, no, you can’t…”

Steve turned, that brash, confident grin back on his face. “Oh, and Bucky… try not to be late.”

The agents took him away. Tony stood there, fists clenched at his sides, staring at Bucky with utter loathing.


	9. Second Interlude

_The Capture of Loki_

“You should have left it at the bottom of the fucking ocean,” Steve yelled. He was towering over Fury, shaking with rage. He’d nearly died to keep the Tesseract out of enemy hands and here Shield was, just digging it back up.

“It’s a source of power --” Fury started to explain, but Tony just talked right over him.

“That you can’t control and that you’re trying to make a weapon out of. We’re going to be damned lucky if we can keep it out of the wrong hands. You might as well have painted a fifty foot target over your head and said ‘here I am, come get me.’” Tony scoffed and leaned back against the table.

“Look, we have Loki in a cage, he can’t get the Tesseract right now,” Fury pointed out.

“A cage, yes,” Tony said, “but not one built for him.”

“Built for something a lot stronger than Loki,” Fury promised.

“When will you people understand that a river can tear down a mountain?” Tony asked, throwing his hands up. “Loki doesn’t have to be strong. He just has to be smart, and I’m pretty sure that smart is the defining characteristic of a _trickster god_.”

“You’re desperate, if you think you can hold him,” Steve said.

“You think I’m desperate?” Fury demanded. “He threatens the world with war. He steals a force we can't hope to control. He talks about peace and he kills people 'cause it's fun for him. He’s made me _very_ desperate.”

There was only the flash of warning, a glint of sunlight on steel.

Steve’s Shield was in his hand before anyone else could move and an arrow range off the enchanted metal. Two, three more zipped in through the same hole in their defenses and Steve deflected them. The fourth pierced Fury in the stomach.

“Archer’s on the roof, I’m gonna get him,” Steve said. “You get Nick to a physicker.”

“Steve, wait!”

But Steve was already gone, running full out, chasing a man.

The man was fast. Strong. He had a metal arm.

Steve winged the Shield at him, a killing blow if it had struck true. The man stopped, turned. Caught the Shield in his hand and stared at Steve.

He threw the Shield back, full force. As if he knew the Shield, as if he understood its capabilities in his very bones. Knocked Steve over with it.

Steve got to his feet… but couldn’t find the archer. When he returned to the Council Room, Fury was with the physicker, and a second man had broken into the Triskelion and freed Loki from prison. It was hard to say what the goal was; kill Fury, or free Loki. In either case, they’d lost that encounter.

And that one long moment, when the assassin stared at Steve, that was the whole glimpse that Steve got and even that was uncertain. It was night. There was a great distance between them.

And the man had flung Steve’s Shield back at him, knocking him over. Knocking the breath from his lungs. At least that’s what Steve told himself, because otherwise…

The man who tried to kill Nick Fury looked an awful lot like Steve’s old lover, Bucky Barnes.


	10. Chapter 10

Steve sat up when the clink of a key in the door drew his attention. Even for America’s Golden Son, the Council hadn’t made much with the luxurious arrangements. He had a cot. And while his wrists were still bound with manacles, there was at least a good deal of give to the chain. He could lay on the bed and be, if not comfortable, at least not horrifically uncomfortable.

The food was good, but that was probably because the guard smuggled a bunch in from the hastily disbanded party. So, that wouldn’t last.

The door opened and Steve almost groaned aloud.

“Tony, what are you doing here?”

“Abusing my wealth and power, what the hell did you think I was going to do, Steve?” Tony crossed the room in a few steps -- the door stayed open. That was important and Steve was totally going to pay attention to that fact eventually, but right now, right now Tony was straddling his thighs and kissing Steve with every bit of passion that he had.

And Tony was pretty damn passionate.

Tony covered Steve’s mouth with his; licking his way in. Tony was shivering, as if he were cold, or scared, and Steve’s arms went around him as best he could, the heavy chain hanging down Tony’s spine. He couldn’t help but respond and as Tony’s mouth moved against his, lips claiming Steve’s, tongue marking his territory, it felt so damn good that Steve couldn’t think of anything else.

Tony gripped the back of Steve’s head with both hands, held him exactly so, devoured him. Eager, hot, slick, Tony invaded Steve’s mouth, set fire to all his nerve endings. Like a dying man in the desert, Steve downed himself in Tony’s mouth. “God, I love you,” he murmured as Tony pulled back, panting for air.

“So, I never… never answered your question, earlier,” Tony said. His eyes were bright, shiny with unshed tears.

“That’s true,” Steve said. He stroked a thumb over Tony’s jaw. “Will you?”

“No,” Tony said, flat. “I love you and you’re _killing_ yourself for a man you haven’t seen for ten years so no, I will not agree to marry you under those circumstances!”

“What? No, Tony, no, calm down, honey…”

“I. WILL. NOT. CALM. DOWN.” Tony opened his eyes very wide. “I’m not even going to try! I’ve been promising myself this goddamn meltdown for six fucking hours and I mean to have it!”

Steve stared at him, completely flummoxed. Tony looked terrified. He looked furious. He was fucking adorable. He looked stripped down, vulnerable the way Tony never was, totally raw. Like he didn’t have a single barrier left between him and Steve.

There was no resisting; Steve absolutely had to kiss Tony stupid, right now, or he was going to die on the spot. For just a moment, Tony resisted him, hands in Steve’s hair tugging him backward, twisting his face away, but then he melted into it, moaning with abandon. “Steve, Steve,” he murmured. Tony’s tongue slid against Steve’s again, tangling, his hands moving over Steve’s back.

Steve needed to lay Tony down, on the fucking floor if necessary, strip those clothes off, lick Tony from jaw to toes, feast on him. Swallow his cock down and listen to him scream. He needed every catch of Tony’s breath, every soft sigh and deep moan. Steve’s cock stirred, swelled to stiff attention, pushing hard at his suit trousers. He needed to rut against Tony’s thigh, to finger him open, to stroke into him.

He framed Tony’s face with his hands, trying to ignore the clink and rattle of chains. All that mattered to him was Tony and Tony… Tony was crying. He was leaking tears and shaking like grass in a high wind.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Steve murmured. “Don’t cry, Tony. It’ll be okay. Trust me.”

“It’s not you I don’t trust,” Tony said, wiping irritably at his eyes. “It’s that complete bastard, Barnes.”

“Bucky can do this,” Steve said. “He can. He will. You’ll see. Everything will be fine. Everything will work out.”

“Look, look,” Tony said, “let’s go, now.”

“What?”

“It took quite a lot of bribes, but I’ve cleared a route out of the city, we can leave, just go, Steve and start over somewhere else. I --”

“I can’t do that, Tony,” Steve said, gently. “I gave my word.”

“But I love you.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Steve said, “but I wouldn’t be the man you loved, wouldn’t be worthy of that love, if I ran away.”

“That is the most arrogant, dangerous bullshit I have ever heard, Steven Grant Rogers! If you loved me, you’d want to _live_.”

“And yet, it’s who I am, Tony,” Steve said. “I’m not running away.”

“All right,” Tony grouched. “Guess I knew you wouldn’t. Stupid, arrogant, noble, honorable _idiot_.”

And somehow, Tony grumbling at him like an angry kitten was even more adorable. Steve tucked his fingers under Tony’s jaw and lifted his chin. “As long as you’re here,” he said, low and suggestive, “I’ll make it worth your while.”

When Tony nodded, slow and almost hesitant, Steve covered Tony’s mouth with his. Rich, deep, persuading kisses. Whatever he said to Tony, he was scared. Scared that they’d set Bucky an impossible task; not that Bucky would run away, or fail, but just that ten days… he was going to take as much as he could from the man that he loved before he lost it. Tony couldn’t convince Steve to run away, but Tony could probably bribe the Council into nicer quarters, less chains, time with Tony…

When he drew Tony closer into his arms, it wasn’t a hug; he enfolded Tony, clutched at him, cradling Tony against his body. God, he loved this man, loved him so much his chest almost exploded with the feelings.

Tony met him, gladly, eagerly, his mouth working under Steve’s, giving everything he had to one perfect moment. Steve lifted and rolled them onto the filthy cot; it wasn’t the best he could do, but it was all Steve could do. The chains were in the way, prevented Tony from getting Steve’s shirt off, but they pushed the material up and out of the way so that Tony could cover Steve’s chest with hot, slick kisses.

Steve pinned Tony down, loving the press of his body along Tony’s lithe form. He speared Tony with his tongue, kissed him like he was going to war, hard and deep. Tony’s hands were shaking as he batted at Steve’s belt, unfastened his trousers.

Getting Tony naked was easier, faster. He’d changed out of his formal suit and was wearing loose, easy travel clothing that Steve had to restrain himself from just tearing off. He sank his fingers into Tony’s hair and yanked his head back, demanding, wordless, that Tony surrender his throat. Gasping, Tony let his head fall back, trusting Steve, arching up underneath him in sweet need.

Tony reached down, grabbed hold of Steve’s cock, hard and heavy. Curled his fingers around it and stroked, not gently, but urgently. Steve growled, low, needful, against Tony’s neck as he licked, bit, sucked, left marks all over Tony’s tender skin.

“Did you --” Steve started and Tony forced the jar of slick into his hand with a quick tip of his eyebrow. _Hey, it’s me,_ that face said, clear as words. “God, I love you.”

It wasn’t neat, or tender, or slow, or anything like their lovemaking sessions had been before. Part of them both knew and refused to acknowledge, that this was probably the last time they’d ever be together. Steve urged Tony’s legs apart, and Tony did so, eagerly.

He teased around Tony’s hole, felt the muscles there flutter and clench.

“God, you’re magic with your fingers,” Tony cried as Steve breached him, slow. It had to be a little slow, a little gentle. Steve’s fingers were huge, but Tony took it, crying out for it. “God, Steve, more, more, now, please, come on…” Urging him to greater performance. Steve teased, barely stroking the tight pucker, making Tony’s arousal spike hard until he was whimpering with it.

Steve penetrated him, one finger, stroked him, felt the muscle clench and squeeze around him until he found that perfect angle. Brushed the pad of his finger across Tony’s prostate. Tony arched off the bed, back a perfect curve, mouth open and moaning like a wanton.

The reaction of Tony’s body was so volcanic that Steve had to kiss him quiet again, that guards might not wonder what they were up to, come look, because Steve wasn’t sure he could _stop._

Tickling at Tony’s prostate with one finger, Steve licked and kissed and nibbled down his chest until he got to Tony’s cock and then sucked the broad head into his mouth.

“Oh sweet gods,” Tony gasped. He twisted, writhing on Steve’s finger, thrusting up into his mouth. Steve put a hand down on Tony’s chest, held him pinned like that, forced him to bear it as Steve feasted on him, didn’t let him rest, barely let him breathe. The way Tony writhed against him, their bodies slick and hot together, sweet friction, it was the pleasure, so great as to be almost agony. “Now, Steve, come on, come on.”  


“No,” Steve said, pulling himself off Tony’s cock with an obscene slurp.

“I can’t stand it, I need you in me,” Tony begged. God, Steve loved that, loved it when Tony needed it, wanted it so bad that he was willing to plead and beg and whine.

“I’ll get there,” Steve said. He pulled his finger out, listening to Tony’s cries, moans, then breached him with two, scissoring out.

Tony arched again, it was all he could do. “Seriously, Steve, I’m gonna die here,” Tony said. He probably meant to sound witty and sarcastic, but he missed the mark and went straight into desperate. “I need your cock in me.”

A ragged cry burst out of Steve’s throat. He wasn’t in control anymore, wasn’t in control of anything. All he knew was that he needed Tony, needed him _now_.

Tony spread his legs and Steve crawled up, cradling himself against Tony’s hips.

“I got you, I got you,” Tony told him, and god, he did.

Steve reached between them to press the broad head of his cock against Tony’s opening, stroking him light with it until Tony was squirming, ready for him, and then rocked in, slow and easy until he was in to the hilt, buried in the heat of Tony’s body. Steve felt huge, hard, good. Gods. Pressed his face against Tony’s shoulder and rolled his hips.

Tony petted his hair, stroked his hands down Steve’s back. “I got you,” he said again.

Gradually Steve picked up his pace, until he was fucking Tony with long, steady strokes. His pace grew relentless, urgent, and Tony was moaning at each flex, raising his hips to meet Steve’s. When Tony clenched down, Steve cried out in pleasure so great it bordered on pain.

He managed to balance on one hand, touched Tony’s dick with light, lube-slicked fingers and Tony wailed, writhing on Steve’s cock, twisting, and then spilled himself over Steve’s hand, onto his belly until his side was painted with it. Steve groaned at it, the slick wetness, the earthy smell, the feeling as Tony shook himself with it, and he pulsed. His cock twitched, hard, inside Tony’s hot depths, and then he was gone, falling over the edge with relief like a frenzy.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Steve whispered to him like a promise. “And everything’s going to be fine.”

Tony opened his eyes, gazed at Steve with soft, adoring satisfaction. “Liar,” he said, stroking Steve’s cheek fondly. “You’re a _liar_. And I love you.”


	11. Chapter 11

The _Hydra_ set sail on the first tide out the next morning.

Thor attempted to navigate based on his sibling’s direction -- follow that star past the horizon. Trust Loki to come up with impossible to plot instructions. But they could sail east, into the sun. And perhaps they’d get closer.

“Any idea on how we may, perchance, sail off the edge of the world?” Thor inquired.

“Who says we’re going to Jotunheim? No, no, no. That’s the realm of ice and giants. People get killed there.” Bucky asked. “I thought we’d go to Tahiti instead.”

“I hear it’s a magical place,” Natasha remarked on her way by.

“Tahiti?”

“Why not? Beaches, women, drinks with little umbrellas? We’ve been sailing the seven seas for half a dozen years, we’re already rich. Why not just… retire?”

Thor scoffed. “Are you afraid?”

“Oh, come on, Thor,” Bucky said. “It’s your brother. Sister. Whatever.”

“You’re afraid.”

“You’re damn straight I am, and you would be too, if you had any sense. Loki is crazy. She’s a lunatic on a mission. She’s as strong as you are --”

“No, she’s not.”

“And more powerful than anyone else, except maybe your mother, and Frigga’s favorite child is Loki.”

“You need not rub that in,” Thor growled. “I regret even mentioning it to you. But Steven is your friend.”

“Captain America will be fine. Nobody’s gonna let Pierce execute America’s golden boy,” Bucky said, huffing. “That’s not going to happen.”

“You’re so certain of that,” Thor said. “I remain… unconvinced.”

“There’s nothing I can do about it,” Bucky exclaimed. “I didn’t ask him to step up, I didn’t want him to.”

“So, we retreat?”

“Retiring. We’re _retiring_. I… I don’t want to be in the pirating business anymore. Find a beach and lounge around. It’ll be nice.” And it probably would be, right up until Bucky died. But no one needed to know about that. No one else knew that his metal arm, to replace the one that was lost in Loki’s service, was killing him. Fragments of the arm, icy shards of poison, were creeping ever closer to his heart. He’d needed the Infinity Stone to cure it, or else return to Loki’s service.

That wasn’t going to happen. Eventually, the arm was going to kill him. It couldn’t be removed. Only powerful magic could stop it. But Bucky was no longer sure that he didn’t want to just… give up.

Bucky sighed, patted Thor on the arm. “It’ll be fine, you’ll see.” He stalked off toward the captain’s quarters. He was exhausted. He hadn’t slept. Sometimes, he thought he might never sleep again.

“Thor. Stone… Steve,” he muttered to himself, as if the raging thoughts were demons that he could cast out. He shoved the door open and stopped dead.

Tony Stark was standing right in the middle of his bed chambers, looking at his things. Beautiful. Perfect. Lined with early morning sun.

_Oh fuck me sideways._

_***_

“Well, this is just lovely,” Tony said. He walked around the small cabin, picking up the rare and delicate objects that James “Bucky” Barnes had liberated from around the world. Jeweled gewgaws and trinkets, maps and books of poetry, rare artwork and rich cloth.

“This is from Pompeii,” he said, lifting a polished mother-of-pearl pendant, “and this… this is from a brothel in New York.” He inspected a tasselled blue brassiere.

“Good guess,” a voice purred in his ear.

Tony about jumped out of his skin. He hadn’t even heard the man come in. “God damnit it, Barnes,” he said, clutching at his chest. “I have a heart condition, gimme a break!”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing here?” Barnes demanded. He practically loomed over Tony, all rage and indignation and probably some knives somewhere, Tony had heard that Barnes was partial to blades.

Tony gasped and tried to retreat but he was pinned in between Barnes and the desk. Tony’d thought his fiancé was big, but Barnes moved more aggressively. And he was angry. Which wasn’t helped at all by the fact that Barnes had the most beautiful eyes at Tony had ever seen, or that Tony couldn’t quite keep himself from watching Barnes’s mouth. What the hell, even?

“I’m here,” Tony said, trying for stern and respectable, “to make sure you do your job and find the Infinity Stone. Before my fiancé gets his head cut off.”

“Really?” Barnes said. He crowded closer, body heat seeping through his clothes and smothering Tony. He pushed Tony back even further, until Tony was practically laying on the desk. “How do you plan to do that?”

Tony took advantage of the way Barnes’s hands went to his hips in exasperation to squirm out from under the man. “By any means necessary.”

“Really?” Barnes looked almost relieved by this. “Did you bring more soldiers?”

“No.”

“You know how to get to Jotunheim?”

“Not really.”

“Can you navigate a ship?”

“Yes!”

“Great! So, I can dump your ass in a rowboat and you can fuckin’ paddle all the way back to New York.” There was something about the way Barnes said _paddle_ that gave Tony a distinctive shiver down his spine. “Because we’re going to Tahiti.”

“Tahiti,” Tony said, flatly.

“It’s a magical place,” Barnes responded. He threw himself down on the captain’s bed and grinned up smugly.

“You’re a gutless, worthless coward,” Tony hissed. “I can’t believe you!”

“This is not my problem!” Barnes threw his hands up. “I did not steal the Stone. I did not ask Steve to sacrifice everything. And I certainly didn’t want your ass on my fucking ship!”

“Come on,” Tony exclaimed, frustrated. “You really don’t care? Steve --”

“Could have just shut up and let them execute me,” Barnes snapped. Tony blinked. So, there was something there, after all. Tony turned away to hide a sly smile.

“You’re not going to lose any sleep about this? Because, if it was me, I’d be wretched,” Tony said. What the hell, he already was wretched, and he knew damn well he was going to be losing sleep. It was hard to bear, knowing Steve was alone. In prison. Preparing to die to defend the honor of a man who had none.

“My wretchedness, or lack thereof, has nothing to do with Steve!” Barnes lashed out. Liar.

“Clearly I can’t appeal to your better nature, so maybe if I speak your language?” Tony had him on the hook now. All Barnes needed was a reason; his pride wouldn’t let him back down for sentiment, but…

“What did you have in mind?” Barnes rolled over on the bunk and gave Tony a direct and suggestive look that slithered right down his spine.

Tony held up a gemstone, raw and uncut, it was nearly the size of a man’s eye. “Money. That is what you were after in the first place, right? How about I pay you, make it worth your while?”

“Keep talking,” Barnes said.

Tony brought out a small leather pouch and handed it to him. Barnes poured a dozen jewels out, bounced them thoughtfully in his palm. “Yeah, this’ll do. But… not for first class. Unless you want to add your sweet little self to the bargain.”

 _What?_ “What?”

“Hey, even us filthy, gutless cowards get lonely,” Barnes suggested, giving Tony a wink.

“I hardly think so,” Tony scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, that’s all right. We have other accommodations.” And with that, Barnes grabbed Tony around the waist and flung Tony over his shoulder, keeping one hand on his wrist and another on Tony’s ass to prevent him from squirming away.

Tony struggled, but that metal arm was wickedly strong, and Barnes seemed to have more than a little experience in holding down an unwilling victim.

The crew of the _Hydra_ stopped to stare as Barnes manhandled Tony all the way across the deck, never taking his hand off Tony’s ass the entire time.

“As you can see, the _Hydra_ is well-equipped to appeal, Stark. We have stunning ocean views, luxurious living quarters --” he pushed open the lower deck doors with one foot “-- with three meals a day. Pickles, hardtack, eggs, and pickles!” He tossed Tony onto a narrow cot.

A one-eyed, limping dog bounced into the room after them. “Oh, hey Lucky,” Barnes said, patting the dog’s head. “I’d like to introduce you to your new bunkmate. Well, actually you’re his bunkmate, because technically, this is his bunk. Lucky.” The dog trotted over to Tony and started licking his face, wet and enthusiastic. Ugggg. “We do hope you enjoy your stay on the _Hydra_. Oh, and if he starts humping your leg… that means he likes you.”

And Barnes shut the door, locking Tony in with the dog.


	12. Chapter 12

“How did he even get on my ship?” Bucky demanded. The crew studiously avoided his gaze, but Bucky caught a glimpse of a bejeweled necklace sticking out of Natasha’s shirt. Of course. Well, the crew of the _Hydra_ all spoke the same language. Which meant Bucky was not going to have to badger them into the journey, so he supposed he could be grateful to Tony. Not that he would ever fucking admit it. Arrogant, obnoxious, sneaky, untrustworthy, rude….

“Crew, change of plans,” Bucky said. “We’re going to Jotunheim.”

Despite having been made obscenely wealthy just for letting a scrawny, undernourished, gorgeous, kissable-- Bucky cut that thought off -- the crew put up a token protest.

“What, no beaches?”

“Isn’t it cold in Jotunheim?”

“Um, did you say Jotunheim?” That was Clint, scurrying down the rigging like a monkey.

“Uh-huh.”

“Where there are ice giants?”

“S’far as I know,” Bucky said.

“And from which no midgardian has ever returned?”

“I’m sure a few have made it out alive,” Bucky said. They did, after all, have an invitation. Didn’t they?

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“If you want, we’ll let you off at the next stop,” Bucky said. “But I’ll need your gems, first.”

Clint muttered to himself and climbed back into the rigging. Bucky counted himself lucky that Clint didn’t decide to use an arrow to pin Bucky’s foot to the deck. He did that sometimes when he was displeased.

“I’m only doing this for the money,” Bucky said to Thor, coming up next to the helm.

“Of course you are, my friend,” Thor said. “So, how do we get to Jotunheim?”

“It’s your brother… sister… sibling! Don’t you know?”

“I know _a_ way,” Thor admitted, “but since all of Asgard has been at war with Jotunheim for millennia, it would like be guarded by thousands of Ice Giant troops, who would not take kindly to letting you pass, even with Loki’s invitation. She must have given you direction?”

“That star,” Bucky said, pointing, “is our mark, then.”

***

Loki stared into her drink, a casting on the liquid within gave her a few of the _Hydra_. Now that she’d actually formed a bargain, the Winter Soldier was so much easier to track.

“Looks like he’s not going to run away,” Loki said. But that would have been too easy, left her with nothing to do but wait for the time to run out. This… this would be more fun.

Her followers grumbled, cheered, or mocked, as their mood suited them. Loki smiled, soft and sweet. “He thinks he’s going to pay us a visit,” she said, swirling her finger in the liquid in her glass. “Let’s get ready then… and set some mood music.”

***

Tony stuck his tongue out between his lips, changed the angle of the rod he was working with. Got the flat end under the edge of the hinge pin. “Give me a lever long enough,” he grunted, “and a steady fulcrum point --” he grunted, tapping the tool carefully “-- and I can move the world.” The hinge pin clattered to the deck.

With a great shove, Tony knocked the door off the hinges -- much easier now without the pins in the way. Show that great oaf to lock _him_ in! He wasn’t a child to be sent to his room.

“Oh, come on,” Tony said to Lucky, who whimpered. “You look beautiful.” Lucky whined again and trotted along behind him, a big purple ribbon around his head. But Tony had managed to make friends with the dog, so he supposed that was an improvement. One friend, on a hostile ship. Oh yeah, he was clinging to optimism with both hands. Really, what was to prevent the crew from tossing him overboard, keeping the gems, getting Steve killed?

“Iron,” Tony muttered to himself. “Stark men are made of Iron.”

He staggered onto the deck -- still getting sea legs, he imagined -- and found the crew to be in a great hurry, dragging oars to their rowlocks. Tony ducked a sailor with a handful of long poles, nearly taking his head off in the process.

“Oh, s’cuse me, Mr. Stark,” the man said, giving Tony a wide, gap-toothed smile.

“Watch it,” another one -- Tony remembered this woman, red haired with enough weapons to equip her own mercenary squad -- said, twisting to avoid stabbing Tony in the gut with a marlin spike.

“What… are we doing?” Tony asked.

A blond man with a purple shirt slithered down the rigging to hang in front of him. The man turned Tony’s jaw and faced him forward. Full forward loomed a set of jagged rocks, towering out of the seas, with one narrow passage between them, full of whirls and eddies and riptides.

“What is that?”

The man blinked, then dropped to his feet on the deck. “Sorry, Mr. Stark. I can’t hear unless --” he tapped a pendant on a piece of leather that hung off his throat “-- my necklace is touching my skin. I’m deaf, otherwise. Clint, Clint Barton, that’s my name. Welcome aboard the _Hydra_.”

“Can I see that?” Tony had always been interested in magical devices. Clint leaned forward and Tony touched the disk, feeling power shimmer through the ancient wood. “That’s amazing.”

Clint nodded, tucking it back into his shirt. “The Winter Soldier got it for me,” he explained. “I couldn’t afford the sorcery reagents.”

“That was… very generous of him,” Tony said, glancing at where Barnes was directing the efforts.

“Of course, it means I don’t have to use these,” and he dropped two pale wax plugs into Tony’s hand. “You may want them tho. Thor snors. These are standard issue for the _Hydra_ crew.”

“Clint, back to work!” Barnes bellowed from the helm. “Reef the fores’l!”

“Aw, foresail, no…” Clint muttered, climbing back into the rigging.

Tony stood at the bow for a long moment, staring at the rock formation, then stomped across the deck toward Barnes.

“Are you sure you know what --”

“Yes,” Barnes said, tipping the boat wheel a few degrees, not even looking at Tony, “we’ve done this sort of thing before.”

“Look --”

“And no, there is no other way around, not with the time limits we have --”

“But --”

“And yes, you have my permission to stand there quietly and admire my skill,” Barnes finished. “Or my ass, if you want. It’s a nice ass, feel free to stare.”

Tony was drawing himself up to respond to that with a certain amount of indignation when Barnes shifted a little and Tony actually got a look at said ass.

_Ohmigod._

“Sam! Easy on the main!”

“Aye, sir!”

Bucky Barnes wasn’t quite the crisp, military brawn as Steve, who was packed full of muscle, but he was solidly built, his lines and curves a little softer. Thick thighed, he stood on the deck with his legs slightly apart, outlining a narrow waist that flowed into glorious, masculine buttucks. Tony’s palms itched to give a squeeze, see if they were as soft and supple as they looked. Dismayed, Tony yanked his gaze up, but that wasn’t much help, since Barnes was wearing a sleeveless tunic that showed off both one extremely muscular flesh arm and the enchanted metal of his left.

“How did you --” Tony didn’t quite touch, but he wanted to, fingers tracing invisible lines over the wrist?”

“This?” Barnes stared down at the metal arm, almost in disgust. “I got wounded. My original arm was crushed under a rockslide. It was… they had to cut it off, to save my life. This… this cost me another two years of service to a lunatic goddess. Served six years, bound entirely to her will. Whatever… whatever you’ve heard about me, it was probably Loki’s doing.”

“The Winter Soldier.”

“My _name_ is Bucky.” He spun the ship’s wheel again. “Now stand there and be quiet, or go below. I have to concentrate.” And he took them into the reefs.


	13. Chapter 13

It did absolutely no good whatsoever, but Tony stepped closer to Bucky as they entered the teeth; huge jagged rocks. Even if he was in the very center of the ship, if they ran ground, or one of those spires caught the hull, they were sunk.

There was something about Bucky, though, that projected confidence. Surety. Even if it was tempered with a stupid amount of arrogance and jackassery.

Bucky issued orders, the crew snapping to obey, shifting the sails to slither through the narrow openings. The wind howled through the crevices, making sounds like someone playing pipes. Badly.

The crew probed the waters in front of them with long poles, checking for submerged rocks; they’d come through at high tide, the only time when passage was at all feasible, but there were still dangers lurking beneath the waves.

“Steady,” Bucky said. The oars slid out, pushed the _Hydra_ forward another fifty feet. A hundred.

Tony’s hand itched now for a sketch pad; surely there were improvements he could make to a ship, ease the danger of their passages. Didn’t bats and dolphins sense solid objects through sound waves? Perhaps something like that, artificial or an artifice, could be made to --

The sails scraped one of the tall rocks, dropping gravel and moss onto the deck with a soft sound like rain. Tony stepped even closer to Bucky, gaining comfort from proximity.

Clint called down directions from his perch in the crow’s nest.

“Aye, Hawkeye!” Bucky yelled up to him, turning the wheel with a steady hand.

The pitch of the wind changed from horrible to haunting, a soft, sighing song. Tony tipped his head to listen more closely.

They rounded a narrow passage, slid past two huge standing rocks; the way spread a little open before them, but it was not the least bit reassuring. Dozens of wrecked ships in various degrees of brokenness and rot, were caught here, like so much rubbish. Skulls hung from rotten ropes, swinging from broken mastrails. They chattered together in the breeze, like castanets, giving a counterbeat to the singing wind.  

The _Hydra_ sailed right up to one of the shipwrecks, the figurehead a woman. Wet and age had cracked the statue, given her a look of utter despair, compounded by the trickle of water that ran from both eyes.

Tony shuddered and looked away.

The soft singing grew louder. “What is that sound?” Tony asked. It… bothered him. He wandered away from Bucky, got close to the rail. He had a deep, unspeakable urge to jump. Everything was over, anyway. There was no point, he was going to lose everything that he loved.

_Just come overboard, we’ll give you peace._

Tony recoiled. “Sirens!” His hand went to his shirt pocket where he’d put the wax seals Clint gave him. Hastily, he shoved them into his ears and the singing sound stopped. He felt hope again, alive again, no sudden urge to drown himself.

And then he stopped and stared at the crew.

Oh.

 _Fuck_.

“Bucky,” Tony said, hastily backing away as the liquid form of women cavorted and danced in the waves. Bucky was drowsing at the helm, face impassive, dreamy.

Lucky started barking.

The sirens swam around the boat, a whole school of them, like circling sharks. They leaped and cried out in unearthly voices that Tony could no longer hear. The polers at the bow of the boat let go of their sounding rods. The longpoles splashed into the water and were lost.

The crew abandoned their posts, flocking to the ship’s rails to look. The sirens were faint, shimmery, female forms. Beautiful, until you looked closer, saw the gillslits in their throats, the mouthful of razor sharp teeth, the hungry, hideous gleam in their blue eyes.

“Bucky! Bucky, wake up!” Tony grabbed the man’s arm and practically rattled his teeth in his head, but it was no use, Bucky was fucking gone, ensnared by the siren’s will.

Which really fucking sucked, because the water grew dangerous, pouring over the rapids in a furious gush. The ship was picking up speed and there were rocks ahead. Tony knew -- technically -- how to run a ship, but a ship took crew, and all the crew were…

_Oh, double fuck, the crew!_

The _Hydra_ knocked a pile of rocks, a scraping graze, and shook off course. Tony stumbled, knocked the drowsing Bucky away from the helm by accident.

He stared around, frantic. The crew were all blinded, lost to unspeakable longings. Even Thor, who might have been resistant as a result of his Asgardian blood, was leaning against the ship rail, flirting with the sea monsters.

Bucky staggered back the other way, got an arm on the helm again. Tony almost cried in relief, except that Bucky wasn’t looking where he was steering the ship, instead he was making crude and lewd remarks to a creature that wasn’t real. Tony ignored the spur of jealousy as Bucky directed a set of hot, sparkling bedroom blue eyes to a siren on the starboard side.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

Rocks ahead, oh, shit. Tony grabbed the helm and yanked, knocking Bucky to the deck. The _Hydra_ spun, fast, barely avoiding the reef, but still picking up speed. This was bad, oh, fuck, this was so bad.

A trio of sirens leaped aboard the _Hydra_ , hands grabbing at the crew. Natasha looked ready to shake it off, hand groping around for a weapon. One of the sirens snatched up a belaying pin and clubbed the woman over the head with it, knocking her to the deck. She didn’t get back up.

This was getting out of control. What research Tony had done on sirens (of course he’d done research on sirens, there was a clan of the nasty things just off Ellis Island and contingency plans had to be made in case the colony grew larger and started invading the shipping lanes.) indicated that they were territorial, and only hunted inside their clan’s demesne.

So, get the _Hydra_ and the crew… out of range.

As much as Tony would prefer otherwise, that meant cutting the sea anchor. They couldn’t afford to be slowed down.

Shit, shit. The crew were trying to leave the ship. Tony snatched up a rope and whistled for Lucky. “Come on, dumb dog,” he said, yanking Lucky’s ears once and giving him the rope. “Round ‘em up for me, boy.”

The dog barked around his mouthful of rope and circled the deck, trailing line. Tony jerked the line, pulling them all back in and knocking the crew over.

Clint was yelling something about love and coffee, dropping from the crow’s nest toward the raging water.

“Clint, no!”

Tony grabbed Bucky, who was still writhing on the deck and propped him up against the wheel. “Hold that,” he yelled. “And stay there!”

Clint went overboard.

Fuck, fuck fuck fuck.

Tony tied off a line, wrapped one end around his waist and dove overboard after them. Underwater, Clint was kissing the siren, her arms around his back like a demented octopus and Clint was just discovering that she was drowning him, sucking all the air out of his lungs. He struggled.

Tony looped the rope around one leg and swam to the surface, hauling himself up, and then dragged Clint out of the water by force, the siren clinging to him and shrieking. Once Clint was on the deck, coughing, choking, Tony ripped off Clint’s pendant.

“HELP ME!” He yelled in Clint’s face, knowing the man couldn’t hear him (or the sirens!) but hoping that the man knew how to read lips.

Clint coughed and spluttered, but nodded, getting wearily to his feet.

Across the deck, Bucky wandered aimlessly toward the rails, staggering after a siren who tempted him forward with… a familiar face. Tony narrowed his eyes, the siren looked an awful lot like Steve.

“Lucky, get him!”

The dog bounced across the wooden deck, nails scrabbling. He grabbed Bucky by the closest bit of cloth, the seat of his pants. Bucky yelped and staggered backward.

The sired grabbed Bucky, brought him in for a deep, wet kiss. The _Hydra_ shifted and Tony spun the wheel frantically. Shit, shit, shit, they were going to drop --

The whole ship tilted downward. Tony lost his grip on the helm and flew forward. He knocked the steve-siren out of the way and landed face first in Bucky’s embrace. Bucky wrapped his arms around Tony and, still entranced by the siren, kissed Tony stupid.

His lips were warm, salty, and lush, his tongue skilled. Bucky slid past Tony’s lips, almost unimpeded and then Tony didn’t want him to stop. Oh, oh, oh god. Tony’s arms went up, helplessly tangling in Bucky’s hair as Bucky deepened the kiss, stroked Tony’s mouth with skill and need and --

Tony summoned up every bit of willpower he had, balled up his fist, and decked Bucky, knocking him over. He wiped his hand over his mouth, trying to rid himself of the taste, of the tingle that Bucky’s lips had left behind. “Son of a bitch.”

Clint got ropes around the rest of the crew, secured them to the mast, then scampered up, pointing. Yelling. Tony rolled his eyes, how the fuck was he supposed to hear Clint’s directions now?

The roar of ocean water got worse, even through the earplugs, Tony could hear that.

Oh, crap.

They were going to go… over the edge and probably into some terrible pit of rock and --

Clint was pointing frantically.

Tony shifted his gaze. The broken keel of an ancient shipwreck formed an almost perfect ramp. The _Hydra_ was speeding along, more nautical miles per hour than the sails could possibly have gained. Fast enough --

Tony grunted, shifted the wheel to angle the _Hydra_ directly toward the ramp. Fuck, this was such a bad idea….

“Lucky, get the blades!”

The dog barked, grabbed the lever and extended the hull-tearing blades. The blades cut away the bits and pieces of old ship as the _Hydra_ sliced out of the water and rattled across the ancient deck. Debris flew everywhere.

Tony laughed, hands tight on the wheel. The ship launched off the ramp, practically flying through the air. God, it was _glorious_!

They cleared the riptides and jagged remains of rock and splashed down heavily in clear ocean, startling a school of flying fish, who leaped into the air to scatter.

Behind them, Tony caught one look of angry and frustrated sirens before the creatures returned to their territory in defeat.


	14. Chapter 14

Tony surveyed the decks of the _Hydra_ with satisfaction. The ship moved forward, slowing, as the momentum from tumbling off the falls tugged them forward. The crew were rousing, getting to their feet, checking for injuries. Everyone was alive, the ship was intact. A little worse for wear, but really, considering the events, Tony was damned pleased with himself and thought he’d earned a few words of praise at the _very_ least.

That’s _not_ what happened.

“What happened?”

“The Winter Soldier saved us,” one of the crew contributed.

“No,” Clint said, getting his pendant back from Tony and pressing it to his skin. “Tony saved us.”

Bucky couldn’t have looked more disgusted and angry if he’d been trying. He stalked up the deck, fists at his sides, arms like sticks.

Thor was already taking command, asking for damage assessments, by the time Bucky climbed up to the helm. Lucky trotted up behind him and Tony leaped for the distraction, not wanting to hear whatever had Bucky’s britches in a knot.

“Look who’s a hero?” Tony said, holding the wheel steady while petting the dog’s ears. “You’re such a good dog.”

Bucky smacked Tony’s hand away from the wheel. “Get your hands off that. Look at my ship!” He gestured. The railing was shattered, that was true, but --

“This railing was hard-carved mahogany, all the way from Damascus!” Bucky bellowed. “Do you have any idea what I went through to put this ship together? To get us work! To keep us all fed? And you just, what, drive the ship right over a cliff?”

“Are you insane?” Tony snarled. “I saved your life. And the life of everyone on this ship!”

“I would have been fine,” Bucky said. He shoved Tony away from the helm and Tony staggered back a step or two. “I’ve lived through worse.”

Tony stared at him, then, chest heaving with emotions, turned and walked away. “Right. So ungrateful. It’s just typical.”

“Annnnd, you chipped the paint!” Bucky said, gesturing to the starboard side. “Right there. That is not just a little scratch!”

Tony stormed belowdecks to the bunk he shared with Lucky and slammed the doors behind him. Fucking asshole, what did he want? Tony thought he’d done damn well, under the circumstances. He rubbed at his eyes.

***

The entire crew turned around to stare at Bucky as soon as Tony closed the doors. Exasperated. Disappointed. Disgusted. Even Lucky made a growling sort of snort.

Bucky wanted to crawl inside his skin and just die. He knew, he _knew_ what Tony had done. He’d been damned heroic.

But Bucky also knew what he’d done. He’d kissed Tony. The one thing, the one thing he’d sworn he’d never do, that he’d never take from Steve, and… he was so angry with himself, he couldn’t help but lash out, and Tony had been right there, so smug and so proud of himself, and so goddamn beautiful that Bucky couldn’t stand it.

There was stupid and then there was Bucky, so far off the map past stupid that there were literally dragons. He was in love with Steve, a man he couldn’t have. And he lusted after the man that Steve loved.

And maybe it was even more than that. Tony was proving himself to be quite resourceful. Clever. Funny. Determined.

Uggggg.

“Oh my god,” Bucky muttered to himself. “The dog. And, and, and the crew, and that… th-th-that man!”

He stalked across the deck and pounded on the bunk door. Tony threw the door open. “For fuck’s sake, what?”

Arms crossed over his chest, not looking at Tony at all, Bucky spat out, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Tony’s voice was the same temperature as the center of the sun, rough and furious. Bucky deserved it. He knew he did, but that didn’t make it any easier to listen to.

“No problem,” Bucky said, glancing at Tony. It would be a shit thing to say, but God, Tony was beautiful when he was angry.

“Don’t worry about it!” Tony snapped back.

“I won’t.”

“Good, don’t.”

“Bye!”

Tony slammed the door again.

Bucky stood there, panting, trying desperately to get himself under some sort of control before he broke the door down and made some stupid, foolhardy, arrogant and sure to be rejected attempt to kiss Tony a little more seriously this time. Tony would shove him away, and there was no doubt in his mind about that at all. And then… well, then Tony would know, wouldn’t he?

And Bucky couldn’t have that.

He turned to face his crew, who were all very suddenly busy with their tasks. Good. “You happy now?”

Bucky stalked away.

***

Tony watched Bucky walk away, still feeling the tingle against his lips where Bucky had kissed him.

And as Bucky turned, Tony noticed a flash of pale skin -- Lucky, apparently, had torn Bucky’s pants during the siren attack. And the man’s perfect left butt cheek was on display.

Tony should have averted his eyes. He should have been angry, furious about the kiss, uninterested in what Bucky’s highly-toned ass looked like. He…

Watched until Bucky was out of sight and then collapsed on his bunk. “What am I even _doing_?”

***

Steve sat at the window of his tiny prison cell and stared out the window. The sun was setting and the stars scattered in the sky like impossible gems. Another day done. He didn’t have long now. Two days done and eight days to go.

It seemed a lifetime ago he’d kissed Tony good-bye. Steve knew what Tony planned; brave, ambitious man. He’d always wanted that, his best friend and his best guy. Together. They were… well, they were both so alike, and yet, so very, very different.

Bucky had said he understood; when the betrothal was announced. Steve was Captain America, he had responsibilities, he had obligations. After the war, something had to be done, or the whole nation would have collapsed. Marrying Tony was the best, smartest move. And it had nothing to do with how Steve felt.

Until it did.

Tony… well, Steve had never intended to love him. Their first meeting had not been what one would call promising. Steve had accused Tony of relying too much on his family’s money, of being useless and wasteful.

Tony had responded with some pretty pointed insults of his own; how Steve was nothing without a magic potion.

They’d ended up having to be dragged away from the Council room before Steve started throwing punches, and it wasn’t until Tony was out of sight that Steve realized where all his rage was coming from. He’d lost the only man he thought he’d ever care about and that was… well, it was Tony’s fault.

But Bucky was gone. He’d kissed Steve goodbye and disappeared. For months, Steve and Tony’s betrothal was in name only. They barely spoke. Steve didn’t get to know him, didn’t _want_ to get to know him.

The Council started setting up formal events; Steve had to escort Tony to that ambassadorial ball. They had to attend this formal celebration together, dance. Just for appearances.

And Steve had come to know the man under the Iron Mask.

Bucky… didn’t come back. Steve’s wounded heart started to heal. He started to listen, when Tony talked. Liked what he heard. Got to know the man he was going to marry. Grew to like him. And then love him.

He thought, given the opportunity, that _Bucky_ would like Tony. Sometimes, in Steve’s daydreams, they were all together. Steve and his husband, and his best, dearest friend.

They were just dreams. But sometimes… he wished...


	15. Chapter 15

Bucky brought the _Hydra_ along side a small, nameless, uncharted island. There were trees and grass and rocks, the possibility of fresh water (since there were trees). Repairs had to be made, the _Hydra_ wasn’t going anywhere without some new mastrails at the very least. And the hole in the deck rail needed to be patched. And…

Fuck, there was a lot of work to do.

“Thor, get ‘em moving.”

“Listen up, people!” Thor’s voice rang out. That man had a set of lungs like nobody’s business. “This is a short stop. Ten minutes. You lag behind, you get left.”

That was such a lie, but Bucky let him tell it anyway.

Bucky stared around at the wreckage of the _Hydra_. God, if Tony had been _trying_ to tear his ship to shreds, he couldn’t have done a better job. The mast was in splinters, the deck rails were torn up. He patted the helm, as if he would have comforted a sick child.

“Okay,” he said, pulling away from the wreckage with a sigh. “I’m gonna need a full set of chisels, a jack plane, and about a cord of cut wood. And more time than we have, but this’ll do to start.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Tony said, snarling as Bucky patted the scraped and scratched side of his ship, “I can fix it. We need some wood and a little tree sap and it’ll be good as new.”

“When I want your advice, I’ll --”

Tony stormed past, grabbing a bucket.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To work, idiot,” Tony said.

“Well, at least go with one of the other crew. Stay in a pair,” Bucky sighed. The last fucking thing he needed, if he could get to Jotunheim, if he got the Reality Stone back and if Loki didn’t kill him, was to have to go back to New York and tell Steve that he accidentally lost his fiancé. Yeah, that’d go over _real_ well.

But… apparently Bucky didn’t have to worry about Tony’s safety, because he was making friends with the entire goddamn crew and they were actually arguing about who got to partner up with him. For fuck’s sake.

“You know, he is right,” Thor pointed out.

“Oh, come off it.”

“The Stark family have been engineers and shipwrights -- both sea and air -- for generations,” Thor pointed out. “He can probably make the _Hydra_ better if you just stay out of his way and let him work.”

Bucky didn’t really want to hear it. “Stay with the ship.” He grabbed a bucket and stalked off after his mutinous crew. Ungrateful, irresponsible… uff.

He told himself he was not worried about Tony. Of course not. And he certainly wasn’t thinking about kissing him again, because that would just be stupid.

He caught up with Tony (and Natasha and Clint and Sam, none of whom had relinquished their claim to be Tony’s partner) and listened in on the conversation.

“You know, you’re not part of the crew,” Clint point out. “You don’t have to--”

“It’s fine, boys,” Tony said. “And girl. I broke it, I’ll fix it. Honestly, don’t tell Barnes but--”

“Don’t tell me what?” He hated the way Barnes sounded in Tony’s mouth. Like there was something wrong with calling Bucky with any degree of familiarity.

“Well, obviously I’m not going to say it now, am I?” Tony gave him a snarky little grin and turned to face one of the larger trees. “Someone give me a knife.”

“Like I’d give _you_ a weapon,” Bucky responded, but it was already too late. Natasha and Clint had both offered theirs.

“Why thank you, Hawkeye,” Tony said. He held the blade up and inspected it. “This will do --” he stabbed the tree, twisted, and got the bucket under the sap-flow “-- quite nicely.”

“You know, you could be nicer,” Clint pointed out to Bucky. “He really has been--”

“Shut up.” Bucky shoved Clint off the rock where he was perched like a spying, sneaking little bird. _Great. Now I’m getting a lesson in manners from an ex-carnie._ What even was his life?

“He did save us all,” Natasha pointed out. Twist the knife, go ahead, Nat, thank you so much.

“And he does know how to fix it --” Sam said. “Starks have always been --”

“I know!” Bucky burst out. “But that doesn’t mean this particular Stark is of any use whatsoever!”

Tony whirled on him, eyes snapping with outrage. “Honestly, you are the most horrible, arrogant, stupid man I’ve ever met. I can’t believe Steve cared about you, ever.”

“Steve --” Bucky strode forward, poking Tony’s chest with his finger. He couldn’t say that, wouldn’t say it. Fuck, he was going to say it. “Steve is marrying you for politics. He doesn’t love you.”

“What do you know about love? You were going to abandon him if I hadn’t come along!”

“He would never had to have been in this situation if it wasn’t for you, if you hadn’t come along with your _money_ and your _political connections_ and taken away the only thing --” Bucky snapped his mouth shut, biting it off.

Tony let him walk away and then… he heaved the bucket, half full of sap, directly at Bucky’s head. “You stupid bastard, you…”

Whatever else Tony was going to call Bucky was lost as Bucky knelt, grabbed a handful of stinking, wet muck and threw it. The gook caught Tony right in the face and he spluttered with outrage.

“Five on Tony,” Nat said to Sam.

“You… you egotistical --” Tony swore, wiping mud off his face.

“Spoiled,” Bucky pointed out.

“... disrespectful…”

“Deluded.”

“Pretentious, pompous…” Tony threw a handful of tiny, chittering crabs in Bucky direction.

“High and mighty.”

“... self-centered, untrustworthy… ungrateful, impossible, insufferable…”

“Well, at least I’m not repressed!” Bucky snapped. Well, that was a fucking lie, because it was Tony who was engaged and Bucky who’d traded away six years of his life to try to forget about it.

“Repressed?” Tony looked both shocked and offended.

“I… uh, might not have meant that one,” Bucky offered.

“I’ll show you -- Repressed, oh, my god!”

For about half a wild second, Bucky thought that Tony might actually kiss him, to show just how unrepressed he was, and god, Bucky was totally going to let him, in front of the crew and everything. Anything, just please, god --

Tony turned and lifted an enormous rock from the ground, held it over his head.

And the whole island started shaking. Birds flew off in a flurry of wings, scattering leaves everywhere. The noise was deafening.

“What the…”

An enormous, stalk-like structure rotated around. A hanging, glowing globe descending from the end lit up the scene like a lamp. It was like watching the moon fall out of the sky.

“Put it down,” Bucky said, very softly, reaching for Tony’s arm.

Tony chuckled nervously and dropped the rock.

The ground shuddered, shook, split. Sections of the earth peeled away, shifted under them, like… opening a giant eye. “Woah, woah,” Tony yelled.

The crew scrambled away as quick as they could. And the eye stared sightlessly into the sky. Clint stumbled, fell. His hands came down on slimy, giant sclera.

“Oh, eyeball, no,” Clint said, raising his hands to stare at them in disgust. “Ew.”

The eyeball shifted until the pupil was directly under Clint, glaring up at him. “Ohgod.”

“Shit! RUN!” Bucky grabbed Tony’s hand and dragged him away. The whole island was moving. The whole island… was _alive_. The further they ran toward the ship, the more he could see; some enormous, fishlike creature, more than six times the size of the _Hydra_ , at least… and the gods only knew what they couldn’t see of it, below the waves.

“It’s a fish, it’s a fish!” Sam was screaming.

“I know. Thor! Cast off, cast off!” Bucky yelled. The whole damn thing was moving, rolling, they were getting further from the ship with each motion. Fuck. Fuck.

Thor looked up just in time for the fin to nearly capsize the ship, spraying water everywhere. The fucking fin was bigger than the _Hydra_.

The fish made a sound, impossible, deep, roaring. It continued to roll over and the whole creature was submerging itself; water rushed around them. Tony’s hand tightened in his and it was so, so not the time, but Bucky couldn’t help but thrill to the sensation of that slight contact between them. “Jump, jump!” And they practically flew over the beasts gills, still running for the ship.

They hit the fin and slid down the surface, rolling and tumbling as the beast tried to swim away.

“Thor!”

“Got it!” Thor was already at the helm, turning the ship, angling it away from the beast and setting up to catch them. Oh, fuck, this was going to _hurt._ Bucky got an arm around Tony’s waist as they went flying, the other hand outstretched for the rigging lines.

He swung them down to safety and before Bucky could breathe, Tony was pointing. “Look, the star!”

What? What. Bucky whirled. The stupid giant thing was plowing through the water on a… on a _direct course_ toward the Jotunheim star.

“Clint, tie it off,” Bucky yelled, grabbing a hunk of loose line. He grabbed a harpoon, knotted one end of the rope around it. Bucky heaved, threw. The harpoon rattled down the beast's scales before lodging in the gillslit.

“Wait, wait!” Clint screamed and then was dragged nearly overboard, having not yet secured the line. He tugged, managed to knot it off, and the suddenly tight line knocked Bucky to the deck.

“Ow.”

The _Hydra_ jerked, twisted, and then suddenly they were nearly flying over the surface of the water, towed by a giant fish beast.

Bucky staggered to his feet and went to take the helm. He couldn’t really steer, and they had no influence over the beast whatsoever, but for the time being, it was travelling in the direction they needed to go and so Bucky was willing to hitch a fucking ride.

The fish dragged them for a night, and a day.

“Soldier, my friend,” Thor said. He was lashed to the rail, as were anyone who had to be on deck; the crazy motions of the fish made being on deck dangerous. “The men can’t take much more.”

Bucky heaved. Ug, he didn’t feel well _at all_. Men were not meant to travel at this speed. “I can’t take much more of this. Cut it, cut the line.”

The _Hydra_ continued forward for a while under the suddenly much less erratic motion of the ocean. The fish… continued along, doing whatever giant fishes did. Bucky didn’t really want to know. He disentangled himself from the safety line and went to check on his crew.


	16. Chapter 16

Tony couldn’t wait to get above decks; being below had been suffocating and terrifying. He’d been unable to hold any food down at all, or sleep, or even see anyone as the giant fish threw them around like a child with a pull toy.

He took great, deep gasps of fresh air.

“Whose idea was that again?” Bucky said, throwing himself down on a pile of rope.

“I don’t know,” Tony admitted, “but he owes me lunch.” Their eyes met for a moment. Too long a moment. Tony shunted his gaze aside, trying not to think about how often he was looking for Bucky, looking at Bucky.

“Granite gates ahead, Soldier,” Thor called out. “They mark near the entrance to Jotunheim. Another day or so should see us through the worst of it!”

“Bet you never thought I’d get us this far,” Bucky said, spreading his hands. The Gates, a small set of islands, had been settled at one time, but the inhabitants were gone, or dead, and left only their huge, abandoned city behind. It was gorgeous, if you know, creepy dead cities were your aesthetic, Tony thought.

“No, I didn’t,” Tony said. “But Steve did. For some reason, he trusts you.”

“Well, what could he have been thinking?” Bucky didn’t meet Tony’s gaze, turned and stared off the port side of the ship.

“How did the two of you even meet?” Tony asked. He was curious. Steve had been a beggar child, orphaned and sickly, snatched off the streets for a lunatic’s magical experiment. It was, truly, a rags to riches tale for the ages. The magic potion had worked better than anyone had any reason to expect, taking a scrawny kid and turning him into a national icon.

Steve was beautiful, and brave, and he’d been grateful, but he also never said much about where he came from before that. Or who he knew, or loved. Tony knew a lot of things about his betrothed, but not this.

***

Bucky ran a hand through his hair, shoving it back. Of course Tony would ask about that. Of course.

“He used to be, you know, just a kid,” Bucky said. “Small, scrawny. Sick. Nobody important or special.” Except Steve had been important. And special. But only to Bucky. Back then, back before, he’d belonged to Bucky. He was Bucky’s whole world.

“And you know, he’s always been loud and aggressive and standing up for people,” Bucky continued, his eyes fading out, not seeing what was in front of him, but remembering a slender, clumsy young man with a bent spine and bad lungs. With an attitude three times the size of the body that carried it around. “Even when it was a fight he couldn’t win, Steve could never just shut his mouth. Could never let any injustice pass him by. Used to get his ass kicked, all the fucking time.”

God, he’d been so stubborn, too. Convinced that he could make a difference. Bucky smiled fondly.

“First time I met him, some kids had stuffed him in a trash can. I think I was eight,” Bucky said. “Took him home with me like he was a stray dog. Let me tell you, Ma had some words with me about that.”

Bucky’d smuggled dinner out to the kid through the window, thought that was the last of it. A few days later, he’d gotten cornered by the same kids who’d given Steve a beating. Bucky was a good fighter, always was, but this was more than he could handle alone.

Steve turned up just in time, and even though he was weak, he was also resourceful. Determined to pay back his debt. And armed. That had helped. The boys’ need to hurt Bucky had vanished when Steve hit one of them with a walking stick.

“We were friends ever since,” Bucky said. “When my folks passed, he came to live with me, an’, well, I signed up for the army. We needed the money, an’ Steve was too sick to hold down a job. I wanted… I was gonna…” He was going to propose is what Bucky was going to do. As soon as he made his first ‘scrip with the army.

Instead, he’d been captured in his first battle. Tortured.

And Steve… well, Steve had volunteered for a military mage’s experiment. He’d become Captain America. Raided the prison camp where Bucky was being held and come to the rescue like a knight in shining armor.

Bucky could still remember that moment, that exactly second, when he’d opened his eyes and seen Steve above him. He’d thought he’d died, gone to heaven, and he’d been so damn grateful that Steve was the first person there to meet him, even if it had meant that Steve had _died_. He was so goddamn beautiful.

Still, it shouldn’t have been over; Steve was with him, they were together.

But he had obligations now. He was… he was goddamn Captain America, now.

“What happened between you? Why did you leave?”

Bucky heaved a great sigh. There was no telling Tony the truth. He couldn’t. He could _not_ do it. “I was with him ‘til the end of the line,” Bucky said. “And I guess the line ended.”

***

Loki was in the bath. She stretched her legs out, enjoying the warm, flowing water, the gentle sounds of bubbles.

She tipped her head back and stared up into the sky. It was lovely in Jotunheim, this time of year. If you were an immortal goddess who didn’t feel cold.

She stretched again, then stirred the bathwater, looking down at her little heroes. They really were excellent toys, but at the same time, “Enough talking.” She rolled her eyes. “Time for some screaming.” She laughed, rubbing her fingers together. What to do, what to… her breath smoked and steamed before her in the icy wastelands. Of course…

She stretched one immortal hand down toward the _Hydra_ and blew a blast of freezing air. The echoing cry of a snowbird came back to her and she smiled. She peered closer. She didn’t want to miss this.


	17. Chapter 17

Third Interlude

_Twelve years ago_

James “Bucky” Barnes stared down at the wax-sealed scroll. It was official, he was a member of the fuckin’ army. A chill went through him. They were preparing to ship him off tomorrow, first to training and then to the front.

He’d be able to write letters, at least. And his wages would go, as specified, half to Steve, and half to Bucky. The pay as a soldier was greater than anything Bucky could earn in New York. He was uneducated, but strong. He’d gotten some work as a boxer until he was forced to throw a match -- the local mob boss had it rigged and had threatened Steve, and Bucky couldn’t have that. That had ended his boxing career.

Since then, it’d been the docks, but the pay was a pittance, and Steve needed medicine, a physicker or a cleric. That was spendy. And he needed somewhere warmer to live; Steve kept getting sick in the winter and one more ‘bout of pneumonia was going to kill him if nothing else did.

So, the Army.

Half his pay would keep Steve warm and dry, keep him healthy. If not happy.

Steve was not the least bit happy with Bucky’s decision. “It ain’t right, Buck,” Steve protested, when Bucky had told him. “You shouldn’t have to do this, not for me.”

Wasn’t no sense in fightin’ about it. It was done.

Of course, by the time he got home, Steve was gone. Probably looking for a fight to take his aggression out on someone. There was always someone who’d open his mouth and piss Steve Rogers off. Bucky could count on that, like the sun coming up in the east, it was fuckin’ inevitable. So… Bucky went looking.

There were a limited number of alleyways between their home and the furthest Steve could walk on his own without getting winded. Bucky made a search of them, and eventually found Steve, Shielded behind a trash can lid, having a heated disagreement with a thug.

“Oh, for pete’s sake,” Bucky said, coming up behind them. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” He wasn’t sure if he was directing the comment to the thug, who was at least a good eight inches taller and fifty pounds heavier than Steve, or to Steve, who always seemed to select the biggest, meanest son of a bitch he could find in a two mile radius.

It didn’t take particularly long to persuade the thug to go find somewhere else to be. Bucky’s knuckles were raw and red and painful, but even so, it didn’t take long.

“Sometimes,” Bucky said, shaking his hand out and watching the blood splatter, “I think you _like_ gettin’ punched.”

Steve threw the trash can lid aside with a ringing crash. “I had him on the ropes,” he protested.

“I know you did, baby,” Bucky said. He slung an arm around Steve’s shoulders. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up. It’s my last night. I wanna do you right before I go. Dancing, drinks, take you home --”

“You shouldn’t have to go, Buck,” Steve complained, again. “Not alone, I should be going with you.”

“You know and I know that ain’t gonna happen,” Bucky said. His stomach turned and roiled at the thought of Steve, trying desperate to hold up a sword and getting cut down. No. _Never._ “Why are you always so keen to fight, baby? There are so many other things you can do, important things, Steve.”

“What am I gonna do, huh, Bucky? Collect scrap metal? Work in a factory?”

“Why not? What’s wrong with that?” Bucky begged. _Please, Steve, please, be sensible._

“You’re gonna be out there, laying down your life. How can I do less?” Of course not. Steve was never sensible. “I got no right to do less than you. Less’n anyone else. That’s what you don’t understand. This isn’t about me, Bucky.”

“Right.” Of course it was about him. Bucky knew Steve hated being a burden, hated it. Maybe even more than Bucky hated the damn cough and the asthma and the anemia and every other stupid sickness that Steve coped with, that was eventually going to steal him away into death. “‘Cause you got nothin’ to prove.”

“Just that I love you,” Steve said.

Bucky blinked back tears. “Come on, let’s go home.”

***

There were a lot of phrases to describe Steve Rogers, but bossy little bitch wasn’t one of the ones most people expected.

And yet, in bed, away from the world, that’s exactly what Steve was. He was tiny, skinny, easily exhausted, but fully invested in his own pleasure and he submitted to exactly no one. Not even Bucky.

That night, however, Steve was unusually tender. He kissed Bucky, tasting his mouth, exploring his lips as if he didn’t know them intimately already. As if they’d never done this before. Bucky was mad for it, lay under Steve while Steve kissed and caressed and ran his fingers through Bucky’s long hair. It would be the last time, for a while, that anyone would do that. Part of training included the uniform… and a haircut.

Bucky hitched in a breath as Steve’s fingers tangled in the long strands. “Oh, we like that right now, do we?” Steve asked. He wound his fingers tighter, pulled Bucky’s head back, baring his throat.

“Yeah,” Bucky managed, arching his back and trying to tempt Steve into putting his mouth back on Bucky’s skin instead of talking, but Steve wasn’t about to be rushed. They had all night. This last night.

Steve kept his hand in Bucky’s hair, kept him arched back, on display, vulnerable, while Steve slowly, excruciatingly slow, opened the buttons on Bucky’s shirt, slid the fabric away, leaving Bucky’s chest bare. Steve used his fingernails, raked down Bucky’s skin, leaving thin, red welts in their wake. Bucky gasped and tried to move, but Steve tightened his grip and Bucky subsided before Steve pulled all his hair out. Pain prickled over his scalp, bringing tears to his eyes.

“Relax, baby,” Steve said, tracing the pad of one finger over Bucky’s nipple. “I got you.”

“You always have,” Bucky said.

Steve grinned at that, rewarded him and bent down to lick at Bucky’s nipple, teasing at the stiffening flesh. Sucked it in and tongued it until Bucky was gasping with sensation. Steve’s slender fingers traveled down Bucky’s chest.

He sucked air as Steve got to his belly, the skin there hypersensitive. Steve tugged at the fly of his trousers, unbuttoned one button. Bucky raised a hand to help, hurry it along and Steve tugged on his hair again. “Stop it,” Steve demanded.

Oh, _god_. Bucky was going to shiver to pieces, laying passive under Steve’s hand. “You plannin’ to do anything with me, or just torture m--”

The rest of his question disappeared into Steve’s mouth as Steve came down on him, aggressively forcing Bucky’s mouth open, thrusting his tongue in. He kissed like it was the end of time, end of the world. Yanked Bucky’s head to him, fingers hard on his scalp.

Bucky’s skin flashed in heat from the possessive kiss; melting like ice under the sun. A muffled sound came out of Bucky’s throat, needy and desperate. Steve continued his slow work on the buttons, then yanked Bucky’s trousers open. Splayed out, looking half debauched as Steve played him over, Bucky groaned, arched into Steve’s touch, wanting him, wanting so much.

Steve shoved a hand down the front of Bucky’s trousers, brushed down the length of his cock to cup his balls. Bucky gasped, shaking all over, spreading his legs as wide as he could, still constrained by the fabric around his thighs.

“Come on, please,” Bucky begged.

Steve yanked his trousers down further until they were around Bucky’s ankles. Sensation shot down his spine like fire as Steve used one slender, narrow finger to circle Bucky’s hole. “Get the slick, babe,” Steve demanded and Bucky whined as he tried to turn, struggling with the clothes that he was only half out of, struggling to move with Steve’s finger poking, prodding at him. He scrambled to his knees and then almost face-plowed the mattress as Steve licked his asshole, once, twice. “I’m waiting.”

“Oh, god, you evil --”

“If you’re talking, you’re not getting me what I asked for,” Steve responded and Bucky squirmed up toward the head of their narrow bed. Steve’s hand came down on Bucky’s bare ass with a stinging slap. “Faster.”

Bucky cried out, the smack radiating heat along his ass, his thigh. He grabbed at the drawer, searching blindly for the little tin of slick while Steve continued to tease and torment, running spit-slicked fingers over Bucky’s balls, reaching between his legs to palm Bucky’s dick. “Steve, god, _Steve_.”

Finally! His fingers closed over the container and he all but chucked it over his shoulder.

Steve laughed, light and sweet. He opened the tin and dipped one finger in the slick there. He wasn’t gentle, breaching Bucky’s ass, but Bucky had no complaints. He hissed a little as his body shifted and stretched. God, he loved it when Steve fucked him, fingers, mouth, dick, it didn’t matter, anything Steve could use to get inside him.

Bucky’s body vibrated with tension, shivering, shuddering as Steve worked him open. The burn and stretch was a counterpoint to pleasure, god, so good.

“You need this,” Steve said.

“God, yes.”

“Say it,” Steve demanded.

“Yes,” Bucky said again. “I need it, need you.”

“You want my cock in you?”

“Yes, please…” Bucky was all but sobbing the words as Steve fucked him with his fingers, slid in and out in primitive, implacable rhythm. Steve never let up, rubbing the pads of his fingers against Bucky’s prostate, four fingers in now, and rubbing against Bucky’s rim with his thumb. He was nearly bent double over Bucky’s back, getting the angle perfect, sweat seeping through his clothes, through the shirt still hanging off Bucky’s arms. Steve chuckled every time Bucky whimpered or moaned, each little motion sending off a spasm of sensation.

“I am gonna die here, Buck,” Steve said, “if I don’t get my cock in you.”

“So get in here, already!” Bucky burst out, strength going out of his body, falling to his elbows, his ass even higher in the air, on display for Steve, ready for him, oh, god, so fucking ready.

Steve leaned back and pulled his fingers out, leaving Bucky whimpering as he clenched down on nothingness.

“You want it?” Steve asked, voice cool and casual, as if he was asking if Bucky wanted a second helping of salad greens.

“You know I do,” Bucky said. “Stevie, come on, pal, don’t leave me hangin’.”

Steve worked his pants open, slow. The sound of his belt clinking onto the floor made Bucky squirm and wriggle and Steve slapped him again, on the other buttcheek, giving him a matching hotspot.

It didn’t matter how many times they’d done this. Every time it was like the first time, like new. When Steve finally pressed the head of his cock into Bucky’s gaping hole, Bucky almost screamed with pleasure and relief.

Steve rocked himself in, slow, gentle now, his fingers trailing light paths over Bucky’s tortured ass and thighs. He gripped Bucky’s hips and thrust in further, then pressed one hand down in the middle of Bucky’s back, forcing him down even further until Bucky’s face was about mashed into the mattress. The friction, the pressure was near unbearable as Steve stroked him.

Steve reached around, leaning over Bucky’s back, to cup his dick. “You gonna come for me, baby, squeeze ‘round me nice and tight.”

Bucky didn’t have words, there weren’t any words anymore to plead for more of the delicious friction, the perfect slide, the exquisite grip. “Fuck… fuck me,” Bucky gasped and he wasn’t sure if he was begging or swearing. Didn’t matter this time, Steve gave him what he needed, thrusting, pistoning those delicate hips until his thighs were slapping against Bucky’s ass, clapping together like applause.

“Any time you want, Buck,” Steve promised. He bit Bucky’s back, through the shirt, and Bucky jerked at the sudden pain, the exact pressure and throb to send Bucky, screaming, over the edge. He spilled onto the blankets, over Steve’s hand, painted himself with spurts of come. He clamped down on Steve’s dick, felt it jerk and twitch inside him.

“Love you, Stevie,” Bucky murmured.

“Love you, too, soldier.”

***

In the morning, Bucky dressed in his new uniform and kissed his fella goodbye. “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”

“How can I?” Steve demanded. “You’re taking all the stupid with you.”


	18. Chapter 18

Gods only knew where the ice came from.

Thor snorted, looked around. “Loki, brother! I see your hand in this.”

Yep, Bucky sighed. The Gods knew. “For crying out loud, what next?”

The whole pass just froze solid around them. Dry ground was covered in snow and ice, and the sea was a sheet, as far as the eye could see. What even the hell? Bucky got the crew organized and sent them down to the icy surface to break it up enough to let the ship pass. Maybe, maybe they could get clear of it.

But gods, it was cold. Bucky went below and brought out coats, making sure to give Tony one, a deep, rich red that complimented his complexion. That was, of course, completely an accident. It was also an accident that Tony’s fingers rested on Bucky’s arm for a long moment. “Thank you,” he said, softly.

“Aw, snow, no,” Clint whimpered. He shivered, holding a pick-axe in his hands. “Steal the Infinity Stone, he says. We will retire in the tropics, he says. Yeah, this don’t look like the fuckin’ tropics to me, bro.”

A loud, screaming cry came over the winds. Everyone stopped, looked around. After their experiences with sirens and giant fish, a little paranoia could be expected.

Bucky pulled his hood up and squinted. Against the blue-gray sky and the white and gray city, it was difficult to make out any details, but he surely saw _something_ moving. Out there. Something huge.

The snowbird exploded out of the mountains, talons spread. Beaky maw open.

“Everyone, back on the ship!” Bucky bellowed.

The creature trailed snow behind it like it was a storm. Blinding. Freezing. Claws snatched at the ship. Tony screamed, ducked.

The bird circled, selecting Sam as its target, chasing him. Sam ran, shouting in fear, his breath pluming up like smoke. He ran, but the ice was cracking under his feet.

 _Oh fuck._ At these temperatures, getting wet could kill him.

No choice; Sam hit the water and disappeared. The bird swooped again, shrieking its rage.

The bird tore up the ice in its frustration, clawing in the water for the man. Tony ran to the rail. “Sam, Sam!” He grabbed a rope, threw it overboard as Sam surfaced, skin gray with cold and shock, gasping for air. “Grab the rope.” Tony knelt, tied off the line.

“Tony!” Bucky screamed. The bird circled again and its brilliant, beady eyes focused on the red of Tony’s coat, brilliant against the snow and ice.

Huge claws encircled Tony, snatching him up.

“Tony!” Bucky raced across the deck, too slow. Always, too slow, too late. Not good enough. He leaped, managed to catch hold of Tony’s fingers, but he couldn’t hold on. The bird dragged Tony away, climbing into the sky with callous disregard to the man screaming in its grasp.

***

When Tony dreamed of flying, he always sort of assumed it would be under his own power, under his control somehow. Not dragged, screaming and struggling, into the sky by a giant fucking bird with ill intent.

The bird swooped and swirled through the sky and Tony was left, clinging to the creature’s talons in despair. If he was dropped now, he would surely die. Finally, the bird threw him to the snow, where he landed, gasping for breath as the wind was knocked out of him. Fuck, it was cold, too, higher altitude. Where the hell was the damn bird? Tony rolled over.

 _Oh_.

There is was, big as a fucking house. Standing over him. Head cocked like Tony was a particularly tasty variety of bug. Tony scrambled to his feet and ran; he didn’t even have the slightest idea where he was running to. The prey part of his brain responded instinctively. Away. Away away!

The bird shrieked, then hopped, talons extended. Tony jerked back managing to avoid getting impaled by a mere six inches, but his coat was caught! Shit, shit, shit. He struggled with the buttons.

The bird dashed its head down just as Tony slid free of the coat, snatching up the brilliant red garment and snapping at it with relish. Oh, gods.

The bird wasn’t very bright, thank gods, but it didn’t take it too make bites of coat to realize there wasn’t anything of nutritional value contained inside. It tossed the coat aside and started digging in the snow for Tony’s carcass. Which wasn’t there, because Tony was running like hell for the nearest bit of cover. He scrambled under the nearest bit of overhanging ice and tucked himself up against it, hiding as best he could.

But oh, holy fuck, it was cold.

***

“Clint! Don’t let the blocks freeze,” Bucky yelled, shaking frost out of one set of lines; the blocks kept the lines moving, secured the sails. They were a critical part of ship operation, and if they froze, the whole ship could tear itself apart in a stiff breeze.

“And Thor?”

“Aye?”

“Gimme a hug?”

Thor blinked at him, confused. Bucky reached around, grabbed two of Thor’s daggers from his belt; after all, he was probably going to lose these particular knives in the snow and ice -- and Bucky was ridiculously attached to his own blades.

Bucky strapped skates onto his boots, grabbed a shield, and then used the ship’s ballista to fire a climbing rope up the side of the mountain. Maybe Tony wasn’t dead, not just yet. Please, _gods_ , Tony didn’t deserve to die like that.

Climbing up a mountain of ice and snow was… not Bucky’s idea of a good time. Not even a little bit. “Oh, he couldn’t see the bird, could he? Everyone _else_ saw it. It’s as big as the freakin’ ship. Tony… Tony’s looking the _other_ way.”    

It took longer than he’d wanted to get up the side, even moving as fast as he could, metal arm aching, especially where the metal met flesh, as the cold seeped in, even through his winter coat.

The bird -- enormous and stupid -- was scratching through the snow. For an instant, Bucky’s heart almost stopped, a patch of brilliant red on the ground, but it was just the coat, that was all, no blood on it. Where the hell was Tony, though?

Bucky finally caught a glimpse of blue cloth, Tony’s trousers, and he slid up behind the man, quiet and careful. He didn’t want to risk an accidental scream or noise, so he moved fast, put one hand over Tony’s mouth and drew him into a close embrace. “Shhhh, shhh, it’s me.”

Tony startled, struggled, then relaxed in Bucky’s arms. He turned to face Bucky, threw his arms around Bucky’s neck and rubbed his (very) cold nose against Bucky’s cheek. Oh, gods, that felt good. “You’re rescuing me?”

“Well, yes, if that’s what you want to call it,” Bucky said. He wanted to fold Tony in his arms, hold him tight, never let him go. He could not do that to Steve, no. He thrust Tony away from him, but couldn’t quite release him, kept his hands on Tony’s upper arms. “But this is going to cost you another diamond. Rescues did not come with the package deal.”

“Yeah, sure,” Tony said. “I don’t happen to have one on me. You willing to take an IOU?” There were a lot of different sorts of currency that Bucky would have been willing to take in that moment, except the stupid snowbird was digging around like a chicken in the yard, and they needed to fucking move, now. He grabbed Tony’s arm and they raced, bent double along the side of the overhang.

“So, how are we gonna get down?” Tony whispered.

“I don’t know,” Bucky admitted.

“What?” Tony hissed.

“I don’t know… yet,” he amended. Honestly, what the hell did Tony expect, he’d just gotten here, how far ahead was the plan supposed to go, anyway? “I’m thinking about it, all right? Just… gimme a minute here.”

“Under the circumstances, I’m not sure we have a minute,” Tony pointed out. “I can’t believe you scaled a thousand foot tower of ice with no plan on how to get down.”

“Look, if you’d rather just stay up here on your own, I could probably ---nnnnnngh -- be willing to just walk away,” Bucky said.

Tony glanced nervously around for the bird. “Shhh, shh, shhhhh. All right, all right. Let’s just… what do we have to work with? Um, ropes?”

Well, there was the one he’d left on the side of the mountain. “No.”

“Grappling hooks?”  


“Yeah, no.”

“Weapons?”

“I have a dagger?” Bucky offered.

“Great,” Tony said, disgusted. He shivered, rubbing at his arms. “He can pick his teeth with it when he’s done eating us.”

“Oh, now that’s just mean, darlin’,” Bucky said. “See, in the hands of an expert, a good knife has a thousand and one uses.” He twirled the blade between his fingers, tossing and catching and…

He missed the catch; the blade smacked into the ice shelf they were cowering beneath. The ice shattered with an alarmingly loud crack and then crumbled around them, leaving them exposed.

The bird… turned around.

“Uh… sorry,” Bucky said.


	19. Chapter 19

Tony just stood there for a moment, frozen in shock, and also in cold, because the whole snow and ice thing sort of sucked.

Bucky grabbed his hand. “Run! Come on, let’s go!”

Seemed like they were always running.

This time, they were running toward a cliff. “Are you --”

“Faster, must run faster!” Bucky yanked and they went sailing off the side.

Tony could probably have done without that, really. Oh god, they were going to die. Dead. Death was coming for them. He closed his eyes, tucked his face against Bucky’s chest. He didn’t want to see it. Really. Did not.

Bucky twisted, midair, pulled Tony into a bridal carry and Tony didn’t even care, he just wanted to hold on and never let go. Which was fine, because they were going to die and there was nothing --

**Wham!**

Tony opened his eyes. Somehow, he didn’t even want to know, Bucky’d managed to get the shield he was carrying under his butt, landed them on the ice, and they were now sliding down the side of the mountain like they were on a fucking toboggan.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Tony snapped, then spat out a mouthful of snow and ice. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“You want off?”

“No.”

It was not comfortable. Every time they hit a bump, they were rattled and tossed. Tony’s ass was going to be black and blue for weeks (provided they lived that long.) It wasn’t steerable, except very faintly as Bucky leaned his weight from one side to the other, or the snow curved along some sort of noticeable avalanche path. And it certainly wasn’t _safe_.

Not to mention the fact that the goddamn bird was right behind them, trying to snatch them with his claws, or peck at them with its beak.

They were barely fast enough to keep ahead of the cursed thing.

The shield whipped around quick, tossed them into the air, and they hit another channel of smooth snow. The bird was nowhere in sight.

“I think we lost him!”

Um, no. Shit, the fucking thing was right in front of them! Crap, crap, crap.

“Head down!” Bucky reached under him and managed to move the shield out from under them at one bump and got it up to cover them from a vicious peck. Tony’s ears were ringing from the thunderous crash of the beak coming down on metal.

Then they were past. Bucky was screaming in agony as his back was shredded on the ice and snow, cushioning Tony from the worst of it.

Their passage through the ice and snow caused a ripple effect, along with the snowbird leaping everywhere like an annoyed chicken. The ancient ruins were toppling over as the bird shook the mountain into earthquakes. Fuck, they were going to get flattened.

Tony grabbed the shield and shoved it back under Bucky’s shoulders.

They flew down the side of the mountain, the bird still chasing. “Fuck, fuck, lean right!” Bucky grabbed hold of Tony’s arms and forced his weight to one side, reached out and grabbed a protruding bit of rock with his metal left hand and swung them around. They clattered down ice-rimed stairs and into a ruined building, the bird snapping at them.

The bird was too big, the opening too narrow. It couldn’t get in. Bucky yanked them to a halt, panting for breath.

The creature roared, then forced its way into the ruins, practically bringing the building down on their heads. It was still too large, but squashed down further, crabbing and crawling into the space like a giant bat.

“Come on, move!” They were off and running and as soon as the ground was slanted again, back on the shield.

“Just kill me now,” Tony moaned, clinging to Bucky’s coat. His fingers were cold and aching and bleeding from the ice, face scratched, chest aching.

“What, you’re not having fun?” Bucky managed, then shifted his weight again, sent them spinning toward an opening in the side of the building, toward sunlight. Tony thought he was going to vomit.

They’d just cleared the ruins when the whole building came down behind them, crushing the snowbird to death. Well, at least that part was over.

The shield spun round a few more times and came to a stop. About thirty feet away from the _Hydra_. “There you are, my friends!” Thor bellowed, tossing a rope ladder over the side. Tony didn’t want to climb, he didn’t want to move. He wanted to just lay there and die. Bucky groaned, got to his feet, and hauled Tony up.

“Come on, baby, just a few more steps,” Bucky said, low and warm in Tony’s ear. “Come on, I got ya.”

“Yep, they made it,” Nat said. She held out her hand and Sam reluctantly poured a few coins into her palm.

Bucky got him up the side of the ship, then tripped over the rail and practically fell on Tony. For a long moment, they lay there, Bucky cradled in the protective vee of Tony’s thighs, his face less than an inch away, and Tony had the worst desire to kiss that pretty mouth, to wrap his arms around Bucky’s neck and never, _ever_ let go.

“There,” Bucky said, clicking his tongue once. “Everything went according to plan.” He stopped, then, staring into Tony’s eyes. His pupils dilated and his tongue darted out to wet his lips.

Oh, god, Tony was going to kiss him, that absolutely was going to happen. It was like time and tide, nothing could stop it now--

Well, except for the crew, who were crowding around, cheering that they were alive, rushing to wrap them in blankets, tending to their injuries.

Fuck.

Clint hugged Tony, wrapped him up tighter in the blanket. “Damn, we were worried about you, are you all right?”

“Always,” Tony said. Tony looked over Clint’s shoulder at Bucky, who was sipping at a warm mug of tea.

A chunk of rock, still tumbling down the mountain, smashed into a pillar, which fell. The entire mess toppled off the side of the cliff and onto the ice, which broke, freeing the _Hydra_ from its wintery prison.


	20. Chapter 20

Night.

Clint had raced along the rigging, lighting the oil lamps. The sea was calm. The stars were bright. The moon reflected as a silver disk in the water.

Quiet. Calm.

Bucky had a hand on the ship’s wheel.

Tony came on deck, graceful. His sea legs were amazing; Bucky’d met sailors who’d been shipboard for decades who didn’t stroll across a deck like it was a dancefloor. He leaned over the rail and stared out to sea.

Bucky… stared at Tony. The long line of his legs, the sweet curve of his ass, the stretch of his back. His perfect, pretty face in profile.

God, his heart hurt. _It wasn’t enough, was it,_ he raged inward, _that I should love a man destined to marry another?_

Apparently not. Because he couldn’t help it. Nothing had changed in the way he felt about Steve; he wanted Steve desperately, missed him every day. _And yet, oh, you kid…._

Tony took a deep breath and came up to the helm. He still faced out to sea, not looking at Bucky.

“Bucky?”

Well, that was better than being called _Barnes_ , he supposed. And he liked the sound of his name on Tony’s lips. Wanted to hear it again. Wanted to hear it with Tony naked and writhing under him. Or, naked and poised above him. Bucky wasn’t picky or anything. And he should not, not be entertaining fantasies about Steve’s betrothed. It was wrong. He was a bad man.

Bucky made a noise; some sort of noise. _Go on, maybe. Or I’m listening. Or anything but I wish you could kiss me. I wish I could kiss you._

_I love you._

“Thank you,” Tony said. “For coming after me.”

“Well, y--” _you are paying me_ , was what he meant to say. Brush it off, keep hiding it. Make Tony hate him. That would be what was best. “You’re welcome.”

Tony watched him for a long moment, opened his mouth a few times as if to say something, then changed his mind. “This life, it suits you,” he said, finally.

“Yeah, well,” Bucky agreed. He was a wanderer. His heart wasn’t his anymore. For a long time, it was Steve’s. Then Loki stole it for a while. By the time he got it back, it’d been broken and cracked. Now it was torn in half. None of that was lending itself to settling down. If home was where his heart was, he was an exile. “I wasn’t made for dry land.” For a long moment, they didn’t talk. “What about you? You’ve adjusted to being out here quite well. I didn’t expect it; you’re not the spoiled rich boy I’d imagined.”

“I’m not what a lot of people expect,” Tony said. He moved closer. Too close. Close enough to touch. Nearly close enough to kiss. “I always wanted to… do great things. I make ships, never sailed on one before. I wanted a life out here.” He pushed his hands through his hair. “But it wasn’t meant to be. I have responsibilities. To my family, to the people.”

“And you’ve never thought of just living for yourself?” _What are you doing, mouth? Trying to convince him to stay out here with you? Do you even think that’s going to happen? It’s not._

“Of course, but I have obligations. I can’t… can’t walk away from that. My father, he made warships, but he never cared what happened to them. Who he sold them to. What suffering was caused. He was a major supplier, during the war. When I got older, I thought to carry on in his path, but I saw that I had become part of a system that was comfortable with zero accountability. So, I became an ambassador for peace.”

Bucky was drawn to him, like the tide to the moon. Like magnet to steel. He covered Tony’s hand with his, felt the warm skin. Heard Tony gasp. “Come here.”

He led Tony to the helm and placed the man’s hands on the wheel.

“You know,” Bucky said, standing just behind Tony, smelling his hair, feeling the warmth of him seeping into the air. “I’ve traveled the world, the realms. Seen things no other man has seen. Had adventures, excitement. And nothing, nothing compares to what I’m looking at, right now.”

Let Tony think he meant the open sea.  

“And this is what you’ve always wanted?”

Bucky chuckled. _Yes_. “Well, not really,” he admitted. “When Steve and I were young… I had different wants and needs and dreams. But, as we got older, things changed. He became Captain America, had new responsibilities, and the dreams of boys, they just didn’t seem that important anymore. Not like what he was doing, protecting the world. I’m proud of what he’s become, but there wasn’t any room there, for me anymore.” He sighed. “I tried, though, to stay. For a while. And then, one day, a ship came into harbor. A ship with his future on it. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”

Tony didn’t know. Bucky could see it in his eyes. He had _no idea_. “What was on the ship?”

“You were,” Bucky said. “Steve met you on the dock. I… I jumped on the next ship leaving on the next tide, didn’t even care what it was, or where I was going. Never looked back.” Liar. “Got involved with some unsavoury people. Sold my body to a Loki in exchange for peace. Didn’t find it. Until now.”       

He took Tony’s hand, brought it to rest over his heart. Tony stepped closer. Leaned up. “Oh, _god_ , Bucky,” he whispered.

His mouth came down on Tony’s.

And the world caught on fire.


	21. Chapter 21

Literally.

Tony wished he was kidding, because, when Bucky’s lips touched his, Tony forgot everything. He forgot that he had obligations, that he was engaged, that he was going to get married. He forgot his fucking name. Because Bucky kissed like it was the last thing he was ever going to do in this lifetime and he meant it to be memorable.

But a single star zipped across the heavens, passed through the star they’d been following as their guide to Jotunheim, and touched the horizon. The entire sky exploded in white and green light and a tear appeared in the fabric of the sky.

“Holy shit,” Tony whispered. Even with that, he couldn’t bring himself to step away from Bucky, was still firmly in Bucky’s embrace when the rest of the crew scrambled onto the deck.

Thor… didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to, the man’s glance said enough.

Tony gently disentangled himself.

It was bright; perhaps not brighter than the sun, but hard to look at. Tony raised his hand to Shield his eyes. A great slit in the sky, like a terrifying eye had opened, with green flickering flames around the edges and there were strange noises, like impossibly distant humming.

The ship started moving faster, even with no wind behind it.

Tony stared off the bow; they were caught in an enormous current, dragging them --

“Clint! Give me a lookout!”

Clint scrambled up the mast to the crow’s nest. Tony barely heard his voice from the top. “Aw, world, no…”

“What is it?” Bucky yelled.

“It just ends!” Clint screamed, spreading his hands. “It’s the edge of the world.”

The end of the world? Tony scrambled forward, he had to see this for himself, even if it meant his death.

The sky was deep red and purple, the ocean black under the eerie light. As he drew closer, Tony could pick up details about the hole in the sky, a giant stone, hanging there by nothing. In the middle of nothing. Like a doorway. Below it was more nothing.

And the waters of the ocean were pouring into the abyss below.

“Pay up,” Sam said, nudging Nat. “It’s flat.”

Natasha grumbled and dropped a handful of coins into Sam’s hands.

“I don’t think there’s any way to… to get over there,” Bucky said, low and reverent, staring.

“Not at all, my friend,” Thor said. “T’is my brother, and he will always provide a way. He invited you, did he not?”

“Wouldn’t put it past your sibling to make sure I couldn’t get there, just to fuck with me.”

“Loki’s word is good,” Thor said, his face tightening a little. “I have known him since we were boys. He lies, cheats, steals, masquerades as god and human like, but if he has given his word, you may rely upon it.”

“Follow that star beyond the horizon,” Bucky murmured. “Prep me a landing boat.”

“Winter Soldier,” Nat said, “Request permission to accompany.”

“Denied,” Bucky said, holding up one hand. “Might be a one way trip. I’m not risking anyone else.”

“Afraid you don’t have any choice,” Tony said. “You’re not my captain, you can’t give me orders, and I paid to go with you to Jotunheim, and I’m going.”

“Right,” Bucky said. He took Tony’s hand and they climbed into the rowboat.

“Thor, if we don’t make it back, the ship is yours. Take good care of my crew.”

  
“Aye, my friend,” Thor said, gently. “I will.”

“Gentlemen,” Bucky said, addressing his crew, “and lady. It’s been a privilege.”

Thor cut the line and the tiny boat slammed into the ocean. The current caught them right away and yanked them toward the edge.

“What do you want me to do?” Tony yelled over the rushing sound of water cascading into nothingness.

“Pray to the gods,” Bucky said. “We may be meeting them soon.”

The tiny boat swung around a few times in the current, like a leaf on the wind. The prow drifted over the edge. They hovered there a moment, impossibly balanced on the blade’s edge, then some weird fey gravity picked them up and the boat was drawn like a kite.

Tony peered over the edge into the blackness below. “What the hell?” Soft. Reverent. Terrified. There was a storm below, whirling clouds and flickers of lightning. Thunder roared.

The wind picked them up and tossed them toward the stone edifice.

Tony reached out and grabbed Bucky’s hand just as they were sucked in. There was a flash of light, a ripple of thunder and then…


	22. Chapter 22

Jotunheim was _cold_.

They landed (without the boat, where the fuck did the boat go?) in a pile of snow, wind howling around them. There was ice as far as the eye could see. The sky was lost in thick, gray clouds and the horizon was barely discernable from the vast snowy wasteland.

There was nothing around them; the door that had brought them through was gone. The ocean was gone. The _Hydra_ and her crew were gone.

Breathing was painful in that intense cold. Bucky was shivering violently, so bad he could barely stand. Groping around blindly, he found Tony and pulled the man into an embrace, trying to shelter him, warm him up. Get warm.

They were going to die here, if they didn’t find shelter.

Quickly.

A deep rumbling growl signalled more bad news. There was… a bear? Maybe? A giant bear? Bucky whirled, stirring up more snow. An ice scorpion chittered at them, and he shoved Tony behind him, drawing his dagger.

“There, there!” Tony grabbed his arm, shouted, pulled him around. “A cave!”

“Run for it!”

They weren’t going to make it. The snow was thick and deep and clung to their clothing. They could barely walk, much less run.

“Now, now, my pets,” came a cold, clear voice. “Is this any way to treat guests?”

The snow swirled and the monsters retreated. From under their feet, a palace of ice and steel arose, trapping them in a throne room.

The sun reflected off the ice, the room warmed until it was almost a human tolerable temperature, although Bucky would have liked the floors to be a little less slick.

The throne, at the far end of the room, was occupied by a green-robed figure. He grabbed Tony’s hand and pulled him along. When they got there, however, the person on the throne, golden crown slipped low over brows, was a skeleton, ages dead.

“Okay,” Tony said, quietly, “I am seriously creeped out.”

“Bravo,” Loki said. She came out from behind the throne, her green dress rippling in a nonexistent breeze. “You made it. I didn’t think you would. Few mortals have ever seen Jotunheim before. Lovely, isn’t it?”

“Sure, if winter and death are a big part of your decor, I can see the appeal,” Bucky said.

“Make yourself at home,” Loki suggested.

“Yeah, is a fire out of the question?” Tony asked, shivering, his arms clutched tight around his chest.

“Nice… nice place you’ve got here,” Bucky added.

“You like it? I’m planning on doing your world this way, too,” Loki said.

“Um, sure,” Bucky said. “That’s a plan, I guess. Not my favorite but… look, I’m sure you’re busy, so, could we just… get the Reality Stone and we’ll get out of your way?” Honesty. The best policy, right?

“What makes you think I have it?” Loki pressed one long-nailed hand to her chest, all faux-innocence.

“Well, you did frame me for the theft so that they would execute me. Revenge for your sea monster, I guess?”

“You? If I wanted you dead, you would die. It really is that simple,” Loki said, eyes gleaming. Her hair swirled around her like a blanket. She raised an eyebrow, delicate and slender. “And why would I want to harm you, my soldier? Mmmmhmmm. I have nothing against you. You’ve been so helpful to me over the years. Just like you’re helping me… now.”

“Steve.” Bucky said. “You knew that he would take my place.”

Loki chuckled. “He is astonishingly predictable.”

“You thought I’d run,” Bucky said. “Then Steve would die and New York…”

“Would be left without its great defender, its great symbol, ripe for the picking. And from New York, the whole world will crumble into glorious chaos,” Loki said. “You mortals are sooooo easy to manipulate. Steve couldn’t help being noble, couldn’t help still loving you, no matter that you don’t deserve it. And you couldn’t help betraying him.”

“But I didn’t betray Steve,” Bucky protested. He hadn’t. He wouldn’t. He _couldn’t_. “I didn’t run away. I’m right here.”

“Oh, but you did betray him,” Loki said. She moved, easily, like the wind, and pulled Tony away, cupping his face and holding it out like an offering. “You stole his love. And now you’re stealing his betrothed. Look at him, Winter Soldier.” Loki shoved, pushing Tony into Bucky’s arms. “Steve’s not even in his grave yet and you’re moving in on his man.”

Tony stared up at Bucky, hurt, worried… and. There was a spark there, in Tony’s eyes, that Bucky hadn’t seen before.

“Face it, Winter Soldier. Your heart is as cold and black as mine.” Loki chuckled. “No wonder we work together so well. We sacrifice everything, and everyone, to our own desires. What we want, we take, and there’s no cost too high.”

“You’re wrong about him!” Tony protested, turning and standing in front of Bucky as if he could hold back an angry goddess.

“He knows I’m not,” Loki said. “Ask him. Ask him what he did… see what he tells you. But will he tell you the truth, or will he lie?”

“The truth about what?”

“That he sold himself,” Loki said, “to me. So that he wouldn’t have to love Steve… any longer.”

“You don’t know what’s in his heart,” Tony burst out.

“Of course I do,” Loki said. “I _owned_ his heart. Kept it in my hand for six years, believe me, I know what’s in there just as well as he does.”

“Is that -- is that true?”

“I did it for Steve,” Bucky tried to explain. “So that… so that you could have him and I wouldn’t make it difficult. I loved Steve. We… I was… I wanted…”

“In your heart,” Loki said, in that snake-soft way of hers, “you know that Steve is going to die because he saw something in you that just isn’t there anymore. He’s going to die, and you’re going to get everything you want.”

“No,” Bucky said.

“You wanna bet?” Loki asked, clapping her hands with delight. “How about we play a game? And if you win, I’ll give you the Reality Stone.”

There was a shattering roar and the castle fell away to reveal a slender, slippery ice bridge that extended over the snowbanks, a hundred feet down. The monsters gathered there, eager and hungry. On the far side glinted the ruby stone, shining and brilliant and promising the world. “There it is, noble hero,” Loki said, her voice dripping mockery.

Bucky took a few steps, drawn toward it. The ice crumbled under his foot, leaving a hole in the bridge.

“Not so fast, Winter Soldier,” Loki said. “My game has rules. I’ll ask you a question. One, simple question. Answer truthfully, and the stone is yours.”

“Give me your word.”

“Aw, Winter Soldier,” Loki said, “you’d think you didn’t trust me.”

Was that even a question. “Uh… no, I don’t. But I trust your word.”

“Isn’t a pity,” Loki said, “after all I’ve done for you.”

“After all you’ve done _to_ me,” Bucky snapped. “Your word, Loki.”

“Very well,” Loki said, crossing her nail over her heart. “My word is given.”

Bucky looked at Tony. God, he was so beautiful. So worried. Bucky squeezed Tony’s hand. _It’ll be all right._ He wouldn’t lie; he didn’t have anything to hide, not anymore. “Ask your question.”

“Excellent,” Loki said. She crossed over the ice bridge, like a dancer. “Now, we all know what happens if you get the Stone. You return it to New York and save Steve.” Loki gestured and pulled a horrific face as if the idea of saving Steve made a goddess want to vomit. “But…” and she strode back to Bucky, “if you don’t get the stone, you have a choice to make, don’t you? You can still run, sail to paradise with the man you love, and who… oh my, loves you.”

Tony swallowed, but didn’t deny it.

“Or… you can return to New York. And die. You’re either a thief and a coward. Or a hero and dead. So here’s my question, Winter Soldier. If you don’t get the Stone, will you go back to die?”

Loki faded out of existence, right there, a smudge of green smoke and then she was gone, leaving the ice bridge and the promise of the stone.

***

Tony wanted to run, grab the stone, stop all of these horrible things from happening.

He couldn’t move, his feet were frozen to the ice.

He couldn’t speak; Loki had stolen his voice with the touch of her hand.

Bucky took a deep breath, looked back at Tony. “I will go back,” he promised. “No matter what.”

Tony believed him. Tony loved him. It hurt to admit it but it was true. Loki could see the truth, see it, use it, bend it. Break it.

Bucky walked toward the stone, reached for it. For a long moment, nothing happened and Tony was just about to exhale in relief when Loki appeared again, huge and angry, green eyes flashing.

“You’re lying!”

The ice bridge crumbled under them and they fell into darkness. Loki’s mocking laughter followed them down.


	23. Chapter 23

Bucky wasn’t sure what had happened, but he found himself standing on a tiny, barren island. More like a rock with pretensions, really. In the middle of the ocean. The edge of the world was gone and the doorway to Jotunheim was closing. A flash, a flicker, and it was gone.

They’d failed.

 _Failed_.

Bucky wasn’t even sure it mattered. They were on a rock. In the middle of a salt-water ocean.

They were quite probably going to die.

Bucky didn’t even bother to stand; there really wasn’t a point. They could see the entire chunk of rock from one side to the other from where they were. He stared out to sea where the doorway had been and sighed.

“I’m sorry, Tony,” Bucky said, finally. “Loki is right about me.”

“No, she isn’t,” Tony protested. “You answered her question. You told the truth. I know you.”

“It wasn’t the truth,” Bucky admitted. “It was me, trying to pretend to be someone I’m not. Someone I never was, that I only wanted to be. I went to Loki and I gave myself over to him because I knew, I knew if I stayed, that all I would do is bring misery and grief to Steve. To you.”

“Bucky, I’ve seen who you are. Brave, smart, caring,” Tony said, counting out points on his fingers. “You don’t need to pretend. Loki tricked you, she trapped you. She’s a goddess, there was nothing you could do. Why should you have to die for her? Why should Steve? No one should!”

“Tony,” Bucky said, turning to face him. Tony’s eyes were huge, grief-stricken.  

“You don’t have to go back,” Tony said. “I’ll go, I’ll explain everything. I saw it, I know the truth. I’ll explain everything.” Tony got to his feet, pacing around wildly. “You, you can go somewhere else, and then, when it’s over --”

“No, Tony,” Bucky said.

“I can’t watch you die!” Tony burst out. “I love you!”

“But could you love a man who would run away?”

Tony balled his fists up, his arms held rigidly at his sides like sticks. “ _Yes_! What the fuck is wrong with you? Either of you? Let me tell you just how much I love you _not being dead_!”

To be fair, kissing wasn’t the first thing on Bucky’s mind. They were in the middle of the ocean, on an unnamed, uncharted rock with no way to signal anyone. There was no food. No clean water. No shelter.

So when he turned to Tony to see if the man had any ideas at all, he wasn’t quite expecting the answer to be, “Yes, my idea is to kiss you stupid.”

On the other hand, Bucky was adaptable and Tony was very, very kissable.

His lower lip was plush and pouty, utterly adorable, especially when he twisted it up in that exasperated smile of his.

Tony wrapped his arms around Bucky’s neck and pulled him down, onto the bare rock, kissing him the whole time. His hands were everywhere, and Bucky didn’t want him to stop. Taking his mouth off Tony for the few moments necessary for their shirts to come off and end up under Tony’s bare back was torture, and he made up for it by kissing Tony as thoroughly as he knew how.

He flicked his tongue out and licked at Tony’s lower lip, that pink cushion, tasted him. Bucky groaned into Tony’s mouth. Bucky teased at Tony’s mouth until he was exploring, learning.

It was the very definition of madness.

Kissing Tony.

Absolutely the last person in the world he should kiss. This was _Steve’s_ betrothed. What Bucky was doing was the worst, most horrific sort of betrayal.

And all he could feel was the heat of Tony’s skin beneath his fingers and he wanted that, wanted more of that.

More of Tony.

Tony was sighing against him, writhing with the need to get closer. Bucky’s hand moved without his permission, plunging into Tony’s hair, cupping the back of his neck, pulling the man closer. He wasn’t thinking. Couldn’t be thinking, because if he was thinking, he wouldn’t be doing this. It was pointless. All he was doing was satisfying himself and, if Tony truly cared about him, leaving Tony with more grief, because Bucky knew it was true.

He could not leave Steve to die. He wouldn’t do that. He promised himself, if he had to fucking swim back to New York, he’d do it.

And yet, he was still kissing Tony. He wanted to devour the man. Wanted to own him. Brand him as Bucky’s own. Wanted to hold him tight, as if he could protect Tony from the world, keep him safe and happy, and that was a dream, a fantasy. It would never happen.

Bucky couldn’t think. Tony was in his arms, where Bucky had wanted him to be, and while Bucky’s mind and conscience might be screaming at him, it was hard to hear through the surging keen of his body that was saying more, more of this, more of Tony.

Tony’s lips were moving under his, he was kissing Bucky back with every bit of passion and desire that Bucky could have imagined and never even dared dream about. Kissing him with the sort of fervor that was exactly Tony. The same reckless abandon and bravery and need that categorized everything that Tony did and everything that Tony was. Like kissing Bucky was a triumph and a glory and something Tony was going to revel in.

“Tony,” Bucky tried to say, trying to untangle himself, but Tony’s mouth was so damn addictive that every time Bucky managed to get even an inch between them, he was drawn like a honeybee back to the sweetest flower. “Tony, we shouldn’t, it --” Tony brought him down again, tongue sliding into Bucky’s mouth and stealing the words from his lips “-- Steve would…”

“Steve will understand,” Tony promised. “Steve cares about you, Steve loves you. He won’t… if this all goes wrong and pear-shaped, Steve… he’ll have me, and he won’t begrudge us this one moment.”

Fatalism. Reality dumped over Bucky with the icy wash of a bucket of water. His brain woke up and his sanity took the reins again.

What the hell had just happened?

He’d kissed Tony. Tony had kissed him.

He’d kissed Steve’s betrothed. What he’d swore he’d never do. What he’d sold his damn soul to prevent.

Tony was staring at him, wide honey-brown eyes warm and a little sad. “You sold your soul,” Tony said, and Bucky realized he’d been speaking out loud. “And you got it back. In time to be here with me. Maybe, did you ever think, this was something we were meant to have?”

And then it didn’t matter what he was meant to have, it only mattered what Bucky wanted. He was kissing Tony again. He couldn’t even say he was kissing as his life depended on it, because his life was already over; he was already dead, he just hadn’t lain down. He couldn’t kiss like it was the end of the world, because that was also true. It was the end of his world, and if they didn’t find a way off this damn rock, it might well be the end of the whole world.

And he couldn’t kiss like it was the beginning of anything, because it wasn’t.

All he could do was kiss like he loved.

And Bucky _loved_.

“You are so gorgeous,” he told Tony, stroking his fingers down Tony’s smooth, warm skin, listening to the gentle sounds of his breathing, the way he gasped when Bucky’s fingers ran over a sensitive spot, tickled at the edge of his waist, slid inward toward his navel. “The first time I saw you, my heart stopped beating.” It had only now started again, like a frantic rabbit, struggling and wild, now that he knew his life was ending.

Tony smiled slowly, running his hands up Bucky’s back, fingers warm and needy. Bucky watched Tony’s hands as he traced Bucky’s sides, went down to the fastenings at his pants. Tony’s hands were graceful, the fingers long and callused and perfect. He worked the plackets open with ease, then pushed Bucky’s trousers down his hips, freeing Bucky’s cock and baring him to Tony’s admiring gaze.

With a trembling hand, Tony reached out and cupped Bucky’s length. He groaned into Tony’s touch, pushing his hips down, needing, wanting, and it was so, so good. The barest touch made his stomach twist and turn, made his thighs clench up. He was so hungry for it, needy.

“You like that,” Tony said, teasing. Of course I do, Bucky thought about saying, voice dripping with sarcasm, but he couldn’t find the breath to manage it as Tony’s hand stroked him, up, down. Long fingers traced a circle around his balls. _Oh, gods._

Bucky leaned on his elbow; his arms were shaking too hard to keep himself upright. He traced a hand down Tony’s face. Caressed his cheek, felt the rasp of his beard under Bucky’s fingertips. Traced the line of his eyebrows, marveling at the straight, firm line, knowing the way it would arch into that sardonic expression whenever Tony was amused. Memorized the line of his lip, ran a finger across the lower lip, pink and beautifully swollen from kissing.

“What are you doing?” Tony asked him, hand still moving urgently against Bucky’s cock and it wasn’t like he’d forgotten the fire in his body, but still--

“Making a memory to take to Hel with me,” Bucky said. Morbid, yes, but utterly, utterly necessary. His soul would be adrift for the rest of the universe, until everything burned out or froze up, and this one single memory would be everything that he was. Everything that he had.

Tony’s breath caught and then he was kissing Bucky again, the seriousness of the moment giving way to utter desire, utter passion, utter madness. They writhed and struggled against each other until they were moving in tandem like the tides.

Bucky peeled Tony out of his trousers and he didn’t even care that the rock was harsh under his body, he needed as much of his skin pressed against Tony as possible, every trickle of his heat, every morsel of his desire. Tony’s mouth moved from Bucky’s lips to nip at his throat.

Tony’s hand drifted down Bucky’s chest and then curled around his cock again. Bucky keened, arched into that touch. He couldn’t resist, rolling Tony over until he was on top, feeling the soft cushion of Tony’s body against his, his hardness pressed against Bucky’s belly.

Bucky rolled his hips, dragging his cock against Tony’s, feeling that velvet skin, that heat, so very necessary.

Tony moaned his name. He rocked up against Bucky. Gritted his teeth and did it again, the friction was almost unbearable. “Need it, need you, honey,” Tony cried. He thrust up against Bucky. Too much friction, and there was nothing on this damn island.

Bucky slithered down Tony’s body and took Tony’s cock, thick and dark and proud, and swallowed it.

Tony half-sat, arms going around Bucky’s head, pulling him closer until Bucky was almost choking on it. He licked and tasted and sucked, getting Tony soaking wet and slick. He was merciless, he was messy. Bucky sucked Tony’s cock with every ounce of longing in him, took his length and worked it until Tony was writhing with need, whimpering with every swirl of Bucky’s tongue.

“Come on, come on,” Tony said, arching his hips up until he was fucking Bucky’s mouth, thrusting deep into Bucky’s throat. Tony’s motions grew more frenzied, more desperate. Finally, unable to ignore his own aching prick any longer, Bucky raised up, rubbed them together, moving through the slick mess of saliva and precome he’d left all over Tony’s cock and belly.

The slide was delicious, and then Tony kissed him again, their tongues working together to match the rhythm their bodies set.

“More, more,” Tony was begging between kisses, and Bucky wished, god, he wished there was more, but at the same time, he was so hot, so needy, so hungry for it. His limbs trembled and his lips were tingling. Lightening zagged up his spine and his balls pulled up, tight and shivery, and then…

“Gods!” Bucky gasped, then couldn’t breathe at all. He was lost to it, that perfect, single moment where every bit of heat and desire in his body coalesced into his dick and then spilled out, leaving him in a white hot flood. He spilled himself onto Tony, and a moment later Tony was crying out against him, adding to the mess and the wet and the heat and it was the most glorious moment.

For a long moment, Bucky couldn’t stop, rubbing himself through the mess they’d made, his dick oversensitive but still needy.

“Love you,” Tony said, soft. He cupped Bucky’s jaw and Bucky turned his head to deposit a kiss into Tony’s palm.

“I love you, too,” Bucky said.

They took a few moments to lay there, tangled in each other, until the discomfort started weighing in. Bucky splashed into the water, cleaned himself up. The salt water dried against his skin, itchy and leaving white salt everywhere, but it was better than nothing. He was damned thirsty.

Tony shook their clothes off, and slowly, they dressed. A smudge of black moved on the ocean and Bucky turned, squinting.

On the horizon, Bucky could make out a two sailed vessel; the _Hydra_ had found them.


	24. Chapter 24

Dawn on the eleventh day. The sun was barely halfway over the ocean, a pale, shiny coin that glittered over the waves.

The sky was pink and striped with clouds. The ocean was calm. The people were solemn.

Steve’s arms were free. No one had bound him, and none of the guards who walked out with him had drawn their weapons.

Everyone knew that if Steve chose to fight, he would probably win and many people would be harmed in the process. Steve had already chosen not to. He was an honorable man and he was going to do the honorable thing.

Fury wore black; that wasn’t unusual, he always did. But this time, his clothes seemed darker, more mourning garb than his traditional black leather coat. Coulson wouldn’t even meet Steve’s eyes as he passed.

It was the end.

Bucky hadn’t returned, nor Tony with him.

There were no rumors. Scout ships had been sent out yesterday to scour the horizon for any sighting that the _Hydra_ might be returning. An airship had even gone out and returned without word.

The execution block was at the end of the walkway, facing out to sea. The sun would be the last thing Steve ever saw.

He didn’t blame Bucky, much. Recovering the Infinity Stone the first time had been terrible and difficult, and had taken a lot longer than ten days. The Council’s expectations had been preposterous. If one supposed that Bucky was actually going to try to recover the stone.

Steve knew that no one else believed that. Everyone, everyone thought that Steve was sacrificing himself so that a poor soldier that no one remembered, who’d gone on to become a notorious mercenary, could live. Could live and get away with stealing the Infinity Stone. They comforted themselves with the idea that Bucky couldn’t use the stone, that the magic inside would rip him apart if he even tried to touch it.

The headsman was the only one in the crowd at all who seemed at ease. This was his job, after all. He’d killed hundreds of criminals.

Steve had just never expected to be one.

Steve knelt. The chopping block had a deep groove, where hundreds of heads had rested before. Someone had taken particular care to clean the blood away, however. Out of respect for Steve, perhaps. Steve knelt, put his hands behind his back, and laid his neck on the block.

The sun was full and bright in his eyes.

Metal scraped across stone. The headsman raised the axe.

Steve didn’t look away from the sun. He didn’t move at all.

He knew when the axe reached its peak; there was a hushed gasp from the watching crowd and he tried to brace himself for death.

There was a swoosh.

Above him, the axe splintered and cracked as the haft was struck by an arrow zinging out of nowhere.

“Good shooting, Clint,” Bucky said. A pair of grappling hooks came sailing over the walkway and moments later, Bucky climbed up, followed by most of his crew. Bucky strode over and kicked the axe head out of the way. He clasped Steve’s hand, warm and real and alive. “I bet you thought I wouldn’t make it,” Bucky said, smiling gently.

“I was --” Steve touched his throat hesitantly, shocked that his head was still attached to his shoulders at all “-- beginning to wonder.”

Thank all the Gods. Bucky was _here_. He was here, and he was beautiful. Glorious sea-gray eyes and strong muscles and flowing brown hair. Steve tucked a lock of it behind Bucky’s ear, where the breeze was toying with it.

And then Bucky lurched forward, Steve was in his arms, and they were holding each other. Bucky’s arms were strong and could support Steve, hold him up. Bucky’s heart was thundering in his chest, his lungs were heaving. Bucky whispered. “Til the end of the line, pal. _Always_.”

“I never stopped loving you,” Steve confessed.

They remained that way for quite a long time, then Steve pulled back. “The stone?”

“I tried my best,” Bucky admitted, spreading his hands. “It wasn’t enough. I failed.”

“No.” The bottom dropped out of Steve’s world. He’d come to terms with his own death, he wasn’t going to regret what he’d done, but… it seemed wrong, somehow, to think of a world where there was no Bucky, but that Steve remained. The world turned a mighty stranger to him.

“How could I do anything less,” Bucky said, tracing a gentle thumb down Steve’s face, “for the man I love?”

And there was Tony, looking on. His eyes were wide and filled with tears, but not anger, or even relief. He wasn’t jealous of Bucky’s love for Steve. Or Steve’s love for Bucky. Steve held out a hand and Tony came to them, grabbing Steve’s fingers. “Oh, god, this is awful, I can’t…” Tony sobbed. “You have to do something, it isn’t fair.”

Somehow, the headsman had found another weapon; a sword, not quite so heavy or so sharp. It would be a slower death. The Council were determined, someone would pay for what happened to the stone, to the city. And Steve was convinced they still did not actually believe Bucky, but if it weren’t true, if Bucky had the stone, why wouldn’t he just give it back?

Bucky took Steve’s place at the chopping block. His hands were in fists at his sides, back straight. He didn’t turn to look. He knelt. Laid his head down and his hands dropped loose and lax.

Oh Gods. Steve didn’t think he could watch this. He clutched Tony to him, feeling Tony’s back shaking with suppressed sobs.

The headsman swung and although Steve had wanted to turn away, he couldn’t.

The sword shattered into a million green shards of light. The sun was full in the sky, but the air turned dark and stormy.

“What?”

“Get back, get away,” Fury was screaming to the crowd.

Haunting music spilled from the clouds as the sky grew darker and more dangerous. A stormspout formed in the ocean and slid forward, stopping at the base of the cliff. A woman, huge and powerful, in formal robes, stepped out of the whirlwind; she was the whirlwind. An enormous helmet with golden horns adorned her head and her robes were green.

She was the most beautiful and most poisonous thing that Steve had ever seen.

“Loki,” Tony said, looking up.

She was huge, towering over them. A giantess. A goddess.

“How dare you?” Loki bellowed. She leaned in close, her mouth so large she could have swallowed Bucky whole. “Everything was going _perfectly_ , and now you do this?” She slammed a huge hand down at Bucky, forcing him to dodge and tumble about of the way. “You were a great Asset to me, Winter Soldier, but you… you…”

“Loki,” Bucky said, staring up at her. “I don’t understand.”

“Don’t play coy with me,” Loki said, her fingers spreading to catch him. “Maybe you can fool these people, but I know who you are. More importantly, I know who you _were_. You think you can become some sort of hero? You think you can make up for the things you’ve done? You’re a selfish, unprincipled murderer, you’re the Winter Soldier. You gave an oath to me _,_ swore allegiance to me. You’re a _liar_.”

“Wait,” Bucky said, holding up one hand. “I didn’t lie. I came back. I did exactly what I said I was going to do. I was willing to die for the men that I love. That’s why you’re here, now. This was all part of your little game. I told the truth! And wasn’t there something about being bound by your word? I’m sure I remember that part.”

Loki balled up a fist the size of a small house and slammed it down onto the cliff, shattering nearby buildings and knocking people to the ground like a personal earthquake. Slowly, she opened her hand and the Reality Stone shone in the center of her palm.

Bucky took a pouch from his belt and Loki dropped the stone in it. “Well, well, well,” Bucky said, tightening the ties. “This has got to be a little embarrassing for you, Loki. Performance issues, I understand they happen when you get older.”

Loki leaned way over, her mouth inches from Bucky. “Don’t try me, petty mortal. You were an Asset, but there are others. I don’t need you. And my word no longer protects you from me.”

“Brother,” Thor said, stepping forward, “You’ve made your point. Surrender the day and live to fight again later.” His hammer was glowing in response to the light of Loki’s staff.

“Very well, brother,” Loki said. “For you. This time. And, lucky for you, I’ve got places to go, things to destroy, stuff to steal. You know. Me stuff.” She took a few steps backward and vanished into the clouds, gone as if she’d never existed at all.

Thor held out a hand. “If I might assist, friend Barnes?”

Bucky handed over the stone and Thor raised it, healing the city, bringing light and life back to New York, as if Loki’s temper tantrum had never happened.

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “And… the rest of it?”

“Yes,” Thor said. “Your death sentence. Loki, again, you know. He tampered with the artifact, knowing you would take it up.”

“Wanting her soldier back,” Bucky said.

Thor touched the stone to Bucky’s metal arm. The stone flared and glowed. Pain exploded through Bucky’s chest into the arm. The force of the curse, broken, flared, a brilliant red light, and when it was gone, there was a mark on the metal arm, a red star shape marred in the shoulder. “You are healed now, my friend. Your span of years back to what a man deserves.”

“Thanks,” Bucky said. He rolled his shoulder a few times, the weight lighter, the motions easier. The curse left a bitter taste in his mouth and he spat. But it was over.

“I will return this to my father,” Thor said, “with my thanks.”

“So that’s it, we’re just gonna let Loki get away with this?” One of the Council members demanded.

“It is not your decision to make,” Thor said. “The Infinity Stones do not belong to you, or to this place. And neither do I. But I will return, my friend, if you have need of me.” He clapped Bucky on the shoulder briefly, then whirled his hammer and flew away.

“Why does he even bother to get on the boat in the first place?” Bucky demanded of noone, watching his first mate disappear into the sky.


	25. Chapter 25

“You know,” Steve said, clasping Bucky’s hand and pulling him into another embrace, “I think the Council believes you now.”

“Still don’t look really happy,” Bucky pointed out. “After all, they don’t have anyone to punish, and you still don’t have the stone.”

“Between you and I,” Steve said, fervently, “I don’t want it. I just want it safe from the world, and safe for the world.”

“Well, maybe you can convince them not to hang me anyway, you know, as payment or something for saving the world from Loki? A little monetary compensation wouldn’t go amiss, either.”

“Ha! Very fuckin’ funny, Barnes,” Fury said, storming up. “Am I just supposed to believe you’re a hapless victim in all this?”

Bucky let out a great sigh.

Steve put a hand on his shoulder, “Come on, Buck, it doesn’t have to end in a fight.”

Bucky just looked at him. “It always ends in a fight.”

“Well, not this time,” Steve said. He drew one arm around Bucky’s waist and one around Tony’s. “We are going to go celebrate the safe return of the Infinity Stone to the people who can best protect it. You’re welcome to join us, Fury, if you want. Food, drink, music.”

“I think I’ll just... be on my way,” Bucky said. He ducked out from under Steve’s arm.

“Don’t be stubborn, pal,” Steve said. “I want to hear about your adventures.”

“Fair winds, calm seas. Nothing to tell,” Bucky said. “Tony has a few things for you, but really, you don’t need me around anymore. Neither of you.” He took Tony’s hand for a moment, felt the warm fingers, the strength of the man. Kissed Tony’s palm, and then handed Tony off to Steve. “You two… get married. Enjoy your life. This is what you were meant for.”

“Buck…”

“Look, I can’t stay here. You know as well as I do that it won’t take long for someone to start clamouring for the Winter Soldier’s head.”

“What happened, those people, the things you did,” Steve said, “it wasn’t your fault.”

“I know,” Bucky said. “But I did it.”

“Bucky,” Tony said. He didn’t hold out his hand, didn’t pull away from Steve. They’d be good for each other. Comfort each other. And eventually, they’d both forget about him. That was the way it was supposed to be, right? Admittedly, Bucky thought he’d be dead and not have to deal with this pain, but… maybe it was time to start trying to deal with his pain in less destructive manners.

“Really,” Bucky said. “It’ll be fine. There’s a hammock in Tahiti with my name on it. You know, it’s a magical place.”

Steve sighed. “If you have to go,” he said.

“I have to. Talk to Tony, he’ll explain it.”

The crew took their leave of Tony. Clint actually threw his arms around Tony and sobbed for almost a full minute before Nat hauled him away. The _Hydra_ was waiting on the tide, and it was only a moment before they were sheets-furled and away.

***

Sunset.

Tony was so beautiful, staring out the balcony at the darkening seas.

“So, what is it that Bucky wanted you to tell me?” Steve asked, coming up beside him. Tony leaned into Steve’s comforting height, felt the bulk of the man against his side. Warm. Safe.

Tony sighed. “I suppose getting everything I wanted should be enough, right? And somehow, it’s still not. I just… I wanted him to live. I was willing to risk your life to make that happen. It’s wrong of me. But I miss him. God, Steve, I miss him _so much_.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, slowly. “Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky.”

“He gave me this,” Tony said. He pulled out a small, cheap, tarnished brass ring. “It was supposed to be for you. All those years ago, he was going to ask to marry you.”

Steve couldn’t breathe. “Why, why would he do that?”

“Because he loved you?”

Not that. Of… of course Bucky had loved him. Steve knew that, he did, but… “He left. How could he just… leave?”

“He thinks it best,” Tony said. He stared out at the ocean. “He says there’s no room for him here, and you have obligations… Captain America.”

“I’m more than just the uniform and shield,” Steve said. “And that part of me… loves him. Loves him still.”

“Well,” Tony said. “I guess he thought that the best thing he could do for the people he loves was to give them to each other.” Tony looked up at him, finally. “And I do love you, Steve.”

“I’m relieved to hear it,” Steve said, putting his arm around Tony. “But…”

“But I love him, too. He said… he wanted... “ Tony bounced up on his tiptoes. “He wanted me to give you this, as well.”

And Tony kissed him; not like Tony normally kissed, all feisty sex drive, eager and hot, but slow, sensual. Drawing it out, his tongue tasting Steve’s lip and then slipping inside his mouth. Ran a thumb down behind Steve’s ear, the way Bucky always used to, and Steve shivered.

“You know,” Steve said, when Tony finally pulled away. “Loki still has at least one of the Infinity Stones.”

“And the rest are still missing,” Tony added.

“We could do New York a lot more good if we went out looking for them, maybe?”

“We’d need a guide. Someone who knows the world, has sailed the seas, has been to other realms,” Tony pointed out.

“You know, I might just know the man for the job,” Steve said.

“But he’s already left,” Tony said, heaving a great sigh.

“Well, good thing I’m engaged to the heir of Stark Industries,” Steve said. “A report crossed my desk some time ago, of an airship.”

Tony sucked air. “The _Avenger_.”

“That’s the one.” Steve offered Tony a hand. “Shall we see if we can catch him?”

“Let’s.”

***

The _Hydra_ was in terrible shape.

Nat came up behind him. “I want you to know I’m taking the first mate position under extreme duress. I don’t want it. I’ll only do it until you find someone better.”

“If you can make Thor come back, I’d be happy to have him,” Bucky said. He ran a hand over the splintered railings. They were going to be damned lucky if the _Hydra_ could even make it to the next city and get repairs. He sure as hell wasn’t going to do drydock in New York.

He’d made a promise.

Tony and Steve belonged together, and he was going to make sure that happened.

Lucky whimpered. “It’s okay, boy,” Bucky said. “I miss him, too.”

A shadow fell over them.

“Excuse me,” came a familiar voice, “but you need to replace these rig joints pretty soon. The mizzen ropes need the support.” Tony peered over the edge of an enormous airship, more than five times the size of the _Hydra_. He was inspecting the masts from his position inside the lower gondola.

“Or…” Steve added, leaning next to Tony, “We could just haul you aboard, you and your crew, and you could learn to pilot a real ship.”

“Are you mocking my ship?”

“Yes?” Tony asked, looking at Steve for confirmation. “That’s what we’re doing, right?”

“Yes.”

Bucky sighed, trying to hide a smile. “What are you doing?”

“Recruiting you. There are three more Infinity Stones out there, not including the one Loki has,” Steve yelled.

Bucky grabbed a topline and climbed up. It was easier than yelling and had absolutely nothing to do with how badly he wanted to touch them, see their faces. “I heard a rumor that the Power Stone was being held in the Jasmine Sea, in an underwater cavern.”

“Yeah,” Tony asked, eyebrows going up. “You know where that is? Because I don’t know where that is.”

“It means going through the Chimera’s lair,” Bucky started. “Past the minotaur’s haven -- I hear they have pretty big airships, too.”

“Mmmmhmmm,” Steve said, thoughtfully. “That could be a problem.”

“Assuming we make it past them, we still have to get past the cyclops, before trying to get to the bottom of the sea.”

“I’m not yet hearing a downside.”

“It’s a very long voyage,” Bucky pointed out. “And it’s very, very dangerous.”

“Don’t worry,” Tony said. “I’ll protect you.”

“Recruiting, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m putting together a team. You ready to follow Captain America into the jaws of death?” Steve invited.

  
“Hell, no! The little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb not to run away from a fight. I'm following him,” Bucky swore. “So, what’s the plan, Captain?”

“Find the bad guys,” Steve said.

“Don’t get killed,” Bucky inserted. Because that was important, and Steve sometimes forgot it.

“Save the world,” Tony added.

“Get the man?” Steve asked, holding out one hand to Bucky.

“But you… but he…”

“You wanted to get out of the way, for us,” Tony said, keeping one arm around Steve’s waist. “But Bucky, baby… you were never _in the way_.”

Could he really… really have everything that he wanted? Was that possible, for a man like him, after everything he’d done?

“I don’t know if I’m worth all this,” Bucky said, looking at them.

“You act like it’s some huge sacrifice,” Tony scoffed. “I mean, have you seen yourself? Do you even know how jealous everyone else in the world is going to be that I have two of the most beautiful men ever created?”

“What do you mean, you have?” Steve rolled his eyes. “I think people are going to be jealous of what I have. This is… of course, assuming you’ll have _us_ , Buck?”

“Both?”

“Both.”

“Both!”


	26. Chapter 26

Steve had lost his virginity a long time ago. He and Bucky had been lovers since he was barely eighteen. And then Bucky was gone. Between Bucky and Tony, there had been men and women, more interested in Captain America than Steve Rogers. He’d known the touch of a secret lover in the darkness, and the kiss of the love of his life under blazing sunrise.

And he’d never, ever seen anything like this. Tony was in Bucky’s arms, eager and pretty, lithe and sensual. Bucky wasn’t taking his time, either, he was stripping Tony out of those formal celebration clothes as if the material personally offended him.

In the time it took Steve to lock the Captain’s cabin door, Bucky had peeled Tony out of all of his clothes, left him raw and naked and shivering. He turned Tony gently, pressed up against his back. “Look at this, Steve,” Bucky said, making an offering of Tony’s naked body. “Isn’t he somethin’?”

Tony quaked in Bucky’s grasp, knees buckling as Steve gazed at him, eyes hot and needy. “I am looking,” Steve said. He pulled off his own shirt, went forward to stroke over Tony’s body, hands light and eager.

“Somehow, I’m not sure this is entirely fair,” Tony said, mock-complaint as he was squeezed in between Tony and Bucky. Bucky’s mouth came down on Tony’s neck, licking, sucking, and Tony moaned, body rolling against Steve’s, drawing a gasp from Steve’s lungs. Steve was so hard, suddenly, that it ached.

Steve grabbed hold of Tony’s wrist, pulled his arm down, the thrust his hand against Steve’s groin. “Mmmm, do something useful, would you?”

“Oh, that’s how it is?” Tony asked, not seeming the least bit put out, rubbing and stroking Steve’s cock through his trousers.

“That’s how it is,” Steve said. He rolled his hips, seeking more of that pressure, that touch.

Over Tony’s shoulder, Bucky grinned, glanced up. And Steve couldn't wait any longer for him, either. They kissed, hard and needy, Tony’s body still trapped between them. Bucky’s tongue slid inside Steve’s mouth and it was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. “Oh, gods…”

“That was…” Bucky said.

“Late,” Steve said.

“You two are really overdressed for this party,” Tony complained. “I feel weird, being the only naked person in the room.”

Steve laughed and put his hands to the ties of Bucky’s shirt. That was a problem he could easily solve. While he was doing that, Tony’s fingers were quick on Steve’s belt. It took longer than Steve might have liked, but soon all three of them were undressed, clothing everywhere, scattered across the _Avenger’s_ cabin.

“I do love you,” he told Tony, bending down to capture Tony’s mouth. He drew a hand down to tease at Tony’s nipples, pink and perfect, until Tony was gasping into his mouth. The pitch changed and Steve opened his eyes to see Bucky’s hand on Tony’s cock, stroking steadily, his thumb rubbing over the slit.

“Oh, gods, this is not fair,” Tony said, knees wobbly and weak as the two of them kissed and touched and teased until he was writhing with it, not knowing which way to move or what to do. “What’s going to happen to us if you melt my brain? I’m the only one who -- oh, God, Bucky, that’s… oh, that’s good, do that some more -- who knows how to fix this damn airship.”

Steve tweaked Tony’s nipple. “Did you want me to stop?”

“Don’t you _dare_!” He reached out, blindly, and nearly fell against Steve’s chest, Bucky pressing up harder from behind, grinding against Tony’s buttocks, the movement translated until Tony was rutting on Steve’s thigh. Tony opened his mouth and Steve kissed him again. Tony’s mouth was like fire, lips eager and trembling. He ran a hand along Steve’s waist, traced the line of his hip.

Bucky reached around, gripped Steve’s cock in his other hand, the cool metal palm warming rapidly against Steve’s skin. Steve groaned into the touch, wanting, needing. “Oh… _Bucky_.”

For a long moment, Bucky stroked them in tandem, then Steve wobbled. “Let’s move this to th’ bed before someone falls on their ass,” Bucky suggested.

The cabin was huge, at least three times the size of any ship’s berth Steve had seen before, and the bed took up at least half the available space. Of course it did; Tony had designed the damn airship and he was nothing if not prone to excess. “That bed is utterly ridiculous,” Steve accused him, not meaning it _at all_. Not a single iota.

“You’re a hedonist, Tony Stark,” Bucky said.

Tony grinned at that, turned and shoved. Bucky stumbled back a few steps and ended up sprawled out over the captain’s bed. “Mmm, he is lovely, isn’t he?”

“Gods, yes,” Steve agreed, and he was, god, Bucky was so damn beautiful, all pretty face and gorgeous muscle, lean and battle-hardened.

“That cock, too,” Tony added, like they were talking about buying a new horse or something, “just glorious.”

“Tastes good,” Steve mentioned, although it had been a long time since he’d had his mouth on Bucky’s dick.

“After you,” Tony offered.

“Hey, hey,” Bucky said, holding his hands up in surrender, “I don’t know what you two are plotting over there, but I’m… pretty sure I’m gonna like it.”

They pinned him down, back arched over the pillows like an offering and then Steve took the first lick, running his tongue from the base of Bucky’s balls all the way up the length until he sucked the shiny, broad head into his mouth. Bucky cried out, hips raising up to meet Steve’s mouth and then he was moaning. Tony tucked himself in on the other side, licking around the base, fingers tracing lines over Bucky’s splayed thighs.

Once they had him wet and dripping with precome, they took turns, sucking, licking. Pausing to stroke him, their hands working together over his length while they kissed each other. Bucky watched them, eyes dark and intent, and then as Tony took him all the way in, he threw his head back, chest heaving for air. “Ohgod.”

Steve jerked when someone’s hand stroked his cock; it was hard to tell where one of them ended and the other began. He was aching and wanting and, oh god, that was sweet. Bucky was kissing him, then, tongue teasing his mouth open. Steve explored Tony’s body with one hand, down his back, across his ass, teased at his hole, while his other hand was deep in Bucky’s hair, yanking his head back and exposing his throat.

“So,” Bucky gasped, “does Steve always take charge when you two --”

Tony took his mouth off Bucky with an obscene slurping noise. “All the time,” Tony said. His brown eyes were eager, glinting with mischief as he saw the direction of Bucky’s thoughts. “You think we should double-team him?”

Steve groaned, the thought lighting a fire on his nerves, sending him up in flames at the thought.

“So, here, Steve, get on your knees, big boy,” Tony said, urging him up with a couple of sharp smacks on his ass that tingled and stung, but heightened the rest of his senses. “I’ll get him prepped for you, okay, Bucky?”

“And then while I’m fucking Steve--”

“I can suck Tony off,” Steve finished off, wanting that sweet cock in his mouth; Tony made the best noises and Steve could watch his face while he did it, which was always nice.

“I like this plan,” Tony said. “I’m happy to be a part of it.”

Tony, being Tony, dug around in the cabinet drawers and found a small phial of oil.

“Here we are, Steve,” Bucky said, crawling around on the bed until he’d taken up position behind Steve, along with Tony. Steve was shivering, ass up in the air, leaning hard against the soft mattress, feeling almost shy and self-conscious the way he was on display for his men.

Tony unstoppered the vial and slowly dripped the slippery liquid down Steve’s crack. He yelped, indignant, because damn, that was cold!

The squeaking turned into a moan as Tony circled his finger around Steve’s opening. Steve felt the muscles twitch and spasm as Tony teased and taunted him. “Oh, I think someone likes that,” Tony said. Bucky made a deep humming sound of agreement. Steve’s neck heated and he blushed furiously.

“Gods, that’s pretty,” Bucky said, lightly tracing down Steve’s thigh.

Tony kept circling, then pressed his thumb against Steve’s opening, testing the push of muscle. Steve groaned and tried to thrust back onto Tony’s finger and was met with another one of those stinging smacks.

“Stay still,” Bucky chided him. “You’re fine. Have some patience.” Of course, Bucky went ahead and was teasing at Steve’s cock with his metal hand, the plates chilly. Steve whined, but the pressure was so good, the slick, cool metal a delicious tease that he couldn’t help but roll his hips down, trying to fuck into Bucky’s fist.

“He is really squirmy,” Tony said, breaching Steve with one fingertip and pulling it back as soon as Steve groaned.

“I was noticing that,” Bucky said. Steve heard a soft, wet sound and glanced over his shoulder to see they were kissing. Watching them, as Tony practically devoured Bucky’s mouth, was so hot, that Steve forgot to squirm. Tony rewarded his stoicism with more of that wicked finger, twisting in and crooking.

“Ohgod,” Steve groaned, arching his hips and pushing harder into Tony’s hand. Tony rubbed a soothing hand down Steve’s flank.

“I’ve got you, Steve,” Tony said, soft. He dropped a kiss against Steve’s hip, tongue sneaking out to lick at the sensitive skin there. He twisted his wrist, screwing his finger into Steve’s ass.

“We’ve got you,” Bucky corrected, and there was nothing teasing or gentle about him. He oiled his finger and then added it to the mix, helping Tony stretch and open Steve up.

Steve cried out, sharp, needy, lungs heaving for breath, hips rolling and thighs quivering.

“ _Please_ ,” he begged. “Come on, please, please now.” He couldn’t tell what they were doing, whose fingers were in him or who was teasing and stroking his dick. But he wanted, oh all the gods in all the realms, Steve wanted.

“We’ll take care of you, Steve,” Bucky was saying, and the way he grunted as someone fucked their fingers in and out of Steve’s ass made him think they were Bucky’s.

“I need it,” Steve was reduced to whimpered pleas. “I need it too much.”

“Yeah, you got this, babe,” Tony said, and he and Bucky kissed again, loud and wet and moaning into each other’s mouths. Tony moved, came around to sprawl in front of Steve, thighs spread wide and wanton. He took a handful of Steve’s hair and pulled. Tingles of pain laced across Steve’s scalp, making everything more sensitive. Steve stretched until he could reach, taking Tony’s cock in his mouth.

There was no hesitation, no tease, he just wanted, and damn it, he was going to take it. No need for Tony to urge him on by tugging at his hair. Just that shameless moaning was enough whip to drive Steve’s need. Tony tugged again anyway and Steve grabbed Tony’s hands, pinned them to the bed and did it his way.

Tony writhed under him, needy and restless as Steve swallowed his cock, took Tony’s full length without a hand to make it easier, to control the depth, he just fucking took it. Let Tony’s dick in, stretched his mouth until his lips ached with it. Tony arched under him, fucking up into Steve’s mouth, moaning and panting for breath.

Steve sucked, punishing Tony with his tongue, wringing every drop out of him. Chased the salt-bitter of precome and urged him to more. He relished every cry, every shudder.

The muscles in his ass twitched, fluttering, clamping down on nothingness, aching. Bucky stroked Steve’s flank, soothing, then lined them up. With a single, searing stroke, Bucky breached Steve’s hole. Steve yanked his mouth off Tony’s cock; crying out his pleasure. It had been a long time since he’d been spread -- Bucky’s cock was thick, massive, and despite the prep they’d both, Steve was still tight.

It burned as he stretched and Bucky took it slow, pressed in just a little. Steve was panting through the adjustment, his back arching up. Tony put a finger under Steve’s jaw. “Look at you, sweetheart, so beautiful.” He dipped his head, kissed Steve’s forehead, down the bridge of his nose, under each eye, before finally reaching his mouth. Tony’s tongue slid inside, seeking and tasting himself on Steve’s lips.

Tony kissed him, wet and dirty and slick, with lots of tongue, teasing against his tingling, overly sensitive lips until Steve was whining into his mouth, making him concentrate on the kiss instead of the burn, and Steve adapted, finally.

When Tony pulled back, thumb brushing over Steve’s jaw, his lower lip, he smiled. “You look so wrecked, sweetheart,” he said.

“Gonna wreck _you_ ,” Steve managed to say.

“Yes, you are,” Tony replied, leaning back again. “Looking forward to it.”

Steve grunted, once, as Bucky bottomed out. He stretched, filled, adjusted. “I… yeah, Buck, come on,” Steve slurred. “Need you.”

And then his mouth was too full of Tony’s cock to talk anymore. He could only encourage Bucky by making _Tony_ moan and writhe and cry out, and Steve was happy to do it. His hands clenched hold of Tony’s thighs, holding him tight, holding him down. Making him vulnerable to the sensual onslaught that Steve unleashed on him.

Bucky reached down, fingers still slick with oil, and gave Steve’s cock a few brisk strokes and he was shivering, moaning against Tony’s dick. The vibrations shook him, and based on the sound, that filthy lustful sound that came out of Tony’s mouth, it was doing something for Tony as well. Steve swallowed, but even then his mouth was too wet, and he was dripping saliva all down Tony’s cock, making him slick with it. The lamplight reflected off Tony’s skin, and it was so pretty.

Steve managed to get his fingers uncramped, stretched a little, and then played along Tony’s balls, smearing the spit around, teasing Tony’s sack, the perineum, circled Tony’s tight, puckered hole. Tony was arched up, back a perfect curve away from the mattress.

Steve choked back a guttural moan. It was too much. Heart racing, he pushed back into Bucky’s wicked, slow strokes, wanting more, wanting deeper, wanting harder, and not being able to get it because he couldn’t ask for what he needed. Tony kept one hand around the back of Steve’s neck, holding him in place and between the two of them, he was burning. Need and want and a sense of almost panic warred in him, wanting to please, wanting to be pleased, and afraid to disappoint.

Under his mouth and hands, Tony’s body turned rigid and he shook apart, calling Steve’s name with increasingly shivery cries. Steve felt the heavy pulse of Tony’s cock and then he was swallowing the rush of hot, bitter come, spurting over his tongue and down his throat in waves. Breathing hard through his nose, Steve watched Tony’s expression, looking so much like pain, but it was ecstasy that contorted his features.

Then Tony was done, muscles unlocking as he went limp with relief. He pulled his slowly softening cock out of Steve’s mouth. “Good, that was… wow, yes.” He stretched himself out, full length, unkinking all his muscles, then gave Steve a quick kiss.

Bucky was still rocking himself in and out of Steve’s ass with slow, slick movements, his hands on the small of Steve’s back. Once Tony moved, Bucky leaned forward, got a hand on the back of Steve’s neck and pushed him down, angling him until his face was mashed into the mattress and Bucky’s cockhead was dragging over his prostate with every sweet stroke.

Suddenly Bucky cried out with pleasure and Steve tried to twist to see what was going on. Tony, grinning wide, was teasing him, rubbing one lube-coated finger against Bucky’s hole while Bucky fucked his way into Steve.

“Oh, god, Tony, that’s…” and Bucky’s mouth kept moving, but nothing like coherent words were coming out. He shuddered all over, and then --

Oh, dear gods!

Tony was rubbing between them, teasing at the place where they were joined together, slick and teasing and delightfully provocative. Bucky was quaking; Steve could feel the tremors against his thighs. He pulled back, almost all the way out and Tony was stroking him.

“Steve, Steve, Steve,” Bucky was chanting and each twist of his hips was delicious agony for Steve, deprived and half-empty and unfulfilled. He tried to back into Bucky’s cock, wanting it, needing it back, and then Tony’s hand was on him instead, pumping him ruthlessly.

Free from Tony’s teasing fingers, Bucky thrust forward again, hard. Yanked himself almost free, and then slammed in again. Pressure built and built until Steve was shaking all over and spilled himself over Tony’s hand, onto the bed. He clenched, feeling his muscles seize around Bucky’s dick. Bucky’s hands came down again on Steve’s hips, hard, brutal, warm, loving. He fucked into Steve, breath harsh and urgent. A wild noise came out of Bucky’s throat and Steve could feel nothing now, except the huge, thick length of him embedded deep within.

Steve felt like he’d die if he moved. Like he’d die if he didn’t.

A shiver ran down his spine and Bucky worked even faster, rocking into him and the thrusts punched through Steve like waves of pleasure. Even though he’d already come, his balls drew up again, almost painfully tight and he let his head fall between his shoulder, groaning with impossible bliss.

“Look at that,” Tony murmured. “Love watching that, like… look how he takes you, Bucky. That’s just…”

A guttural moan was torn from Bucky’s lips and suddenly everything became a lot wetter, slicker and Bucky was crying out. Steve ratcheted up even tighter, muscles spasming and fluttering and he let out a choked cry as he came, dry this time and it was almost painful in its intensity. He shuddered, cried out again. Oh gods he was going to die; nothing could feel this good and let him live through it.

Chest heaving, he collapsed onto the bed. Bucky slid out of him and for a moment, all he could feel was that wrenching, awful emptiness, but it passed a moment later.

He was laying in a very wet, sticky mess, but Steve didn’t much care. “Come here, you,” he muttered, and dragged Tony down with him. A moment later, Bucky curled up on the other side. Steve slowly panted, catching his breath, feeling drunk with pleasure and giddy with love.

He was sandwiched in between the two people he loved best; one that he’d thought he’d lost and one that he had always hoped to gain. It was more than he expected. It was more than he deserved. But Steve wasn’t about to let that stop him. He tightened his arms around his men, pulled them in as close as he could. Sweat and heat and affection surrounded him and he couldn’t have been happier.

Love you,” he said to Tony, kissing the man’s ear, which was all he could reach because Tony cuddled like a kitten and his face was tucked against Steve’s bicep. Steve stretched, twisted his neck, and Bucky leaned in to kiss him. “And you. And you.”

Bucky touched his face, like he was uncertain as to whether or not he was dreaming.

“Love you, too.”

Tony might have said something, Steve couldn’t hear it over the pounding of his heart. They were all together.

Somewhere in the smile that crossed his face at that, Steve fell asleep.


End file.
